


More Than a Song

by caffeinatedmilk



Category: Sally Face (Video Games)
Genre: AU, Abandonment, Aged-Up Character(s), Alternate Universe - Rock Band, Angst, Dialogue Heavy, Drug Use, Flashbacks, I don't know what else to tag, Implied/Referenced Self-Harm, Larry's a dick, M/M, Out of Character, Recovery, Recreational Drug Use, Sal Fisher and Larry Johnson Are Not Related, Self-Harm, Slow Burn, Smut, like really slow burn, metal, this is my first work on here
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-05-06
Updated: 2020-06-23
Packaged: 2021-03-03 01:41:25
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 18
Words: 39,339
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24046822
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/caffeinatedmilk/pseuds/caffeinatedmilk
Summary: After working on their band "Strange Neighbors" relentlessly, Ash Campbell and Larry Johnson signed with D.O.G Records. Sal Fisher, their best friend and the one that helped them the most with it, was overjoyed for them. Then, they had to move to L.A. for six months. Six months quickly turned into three years. The band grew, adding a stoic drummer, Phillip, a speak her mind bassist, Maple, a personal assistant, Chug, and their bitchy manager, Travis Phelps.Feeling abandoned and betrayed by his ex-lover and best friend after seeing a steamy picture of the two on stage, Sal decided to team up with Todd Morrison. They became known as "The Wretched". Upon getting signed with Strange Neighbor's rival studio, Red-Eye Records, the two became rising stars, and they gained a kindhearted, paternal manager, Neil.The two bands coexisted peacefully until The Wretched exposed the leads of Strange Neighbors for lying about their upbringing. In response, Larry took a stab at Sal and tipped him over his breaking point. With the release of a damning song written by the blue haired boy, the rivalry between the two bands multiplied to new extremes.The four loving friends from Nockfell became each other's greatest enemy.
Relationships: Ashley Campbell & Sal Fisher & Larry Johnson, Ashley Campbell & Sal Fisher & Larry Johnson & Todd Morrison, Ashley Campbell/Larry Johnson, Sal Fisher & Larry Johnson - Relationship, Sal Fisher & Travis Phelps, Sal Fisher/Larry Johnson, Todd Morrison/Neil
Comments: 7
Kudos: 42





	1. Strange Neighbors

**Author's Note:**

  * Inspired by [We Don't Have to Dance](https://archiveofourown.org/works/17150882) by [ironiclittlebaby](https://archiveofourown.org/users/ironiclittlebaby/pseuds/ironiclittlebaby). 



> Hey! This is caffeinatedmilk! I haven't written fanfiction since middle school, so here is my attempt at a Salarry fanfic. Remember, in this AU, Sal and Larry are NOT RELATED via marriage. It's stated in the tags, but I just thought I would reiterate it. Also, this fanfiction is heavily inspired by ironiclittlebaby's "We Don't Have to Dance", so PLEASE go read their story. I started it at 1AM one night and finally went to sleep at 7AM only to wake up later and finish it. IT'S THAT GOOD (in my opinion).
> 
> Anyways, enough introduction.
> 
> Let's do this.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The Nockfell trio, Sal, Larry, and Ash, are the closest of friends until the opportunity of a lifetime comes in between them.

Ash burst through the door, flyer in hand, and forced it in Larry’s face.

“Guess who is going to be at Ground Sound this year!”

Larry gave her a confused look before taking the flyer. His eyes scanned over the paper and stopped at a very specific band’s name. Flashing a smirk at Ash, he crumbled the sheet of paper and tossed it near the trash can. He let out a little laugh before relaxing himself, putting his hands behind his head.

“Now we have a competition.”

-Three years ago-

“You WHAT?”, the blue haired boy asked, obviously surprised.

“We got signed, Sal!”

The excited girl wrapped her arms around her long-time best friend, Sal Fisher. He knew how hard those two had worked on their music- writing sessions that lasted hours, music practices that lasted even longer. Their hard work was finally paying off, and the cherry on top was getting signed to D.O.G. Records.

Ashley Campbell and Larry Johnson. Two forces of nature that when united were unstoppable. Ash’s badass nature came through crystal clear when she shredded her guitar. Larry’s passion and sex appeal prevailed when he was at the mic. They finally recognized their talents at the end of summer when Ash returned from god knows where and met up with Larry to smoke. They dropped all plans of college to pursue a life in music as heavy metal legends to be, known as “Strange Neighbors.”

Sal felt proud of his two best friends for making their dreams a reality. He sat in on most of their meetings and noticed how serious they were about this. They put every bit of heart into each one of their lyrics and guitar riffs. Their dedication amazed Sal, and he almost grew jealous of them. To have the ability to articulate how they felt into words baffled him. Larry invited Sal to join the band on multiple occasions, but Sal never accepted. Strange Neighbors was their dream. Sal didn’t even have a dream as most of his life was a living nightmare.

When he was about five or six, an extreme accident left Sal without half a face and without his mother. He could not remember anything about the day he lost his mom, but he remembered her smile, her laugh, her touch. For many years, Sal repressed his emotions because of the tragedy. He hid behind his deadpan prosthetic face and matched his personality to the expression. It wasn’t until he moved to Nockfell that life began to ease up. He still had the horrendous nightmares of red-eyed demons, beheaded goats, and other occult activities, but then, he had friends that could rush up to his apartment and help him talk through it. Larry became Sal’s emotional support metalhead, and Todd Morrison, the group Brainiac, leapt to action the moment Sal was too distressed to deal with his homework or science projects. Sal felt a profound form of protection with, especially Larry.

Larry and Sal were inseparable. If you wanted one, you got both or neither. They did everything together. That was until Strange Neighbors became a thing. The boys no longer went to the diner for burgers when Sal got out of school for lunch. They stopped going to the lake every Saturday to skip rocks or swim or just sit and talk. Those rituals were replaced with practices, recording sessions in Todd’s room, and demo cover designing. Sal stopped seeing Larry like a best friend and started to see him as a musician too busy to be concerned with him. When Sal tried to talk to him about it, his tongue got caught between his teeth. He didn’t want to be the thing holding Larry back from his dreams, so he remained quiet. Eventually, Ash realized how her return to Nockfell had created a rift between the boys, so she invited Sal to everything they did. At first, Sal refused.

“I’m fine, honestly. I have a lot of homework and reading to do for class.”

“Sal, how long have we known each other?”

“Uh,” he paused and counted on his fingers, “a while.”

“Yeah, a while, so wouldn’t you think I’d know when you’re lying by now?”

Sal sunk into himself. Ash grabbed his hand, and they headed to the basement where Larry lived. The three of them spent the rest of the night in a weed induced brainstorming session that inspired a song talking about bologna made of human meat. Larry said just the thought of that made him nauseous, so it was a perfect song for Strange Neighbors. That night, Larry appointed Sal as the official “inspector of music and stuff”, and Sal was a member of the group in the duo’s eyes. They told him when their meetings were, and they’d blow up his phone when he wasn’t there. The three became the three musical musketeers of Addison Apartments, until the overwhelmingly successful release of Strange Neighbors’ EP, “Apartment 204.”

Ash let go of Sal who was beaming almost as much as she was. She told him everything about their meeting with Kenneth Phelps, the scout from D.O.G. Records, but left out one important detail. In order to have their debut as an official D.O.G. Records band, they had to move out to Los Angeles for six months for rehearsals, recording songs, and auditioning other members.

“This is awesome, Ash! Wait, where’s Larry? Shouldn’t he be with you?”

Ash plopped on the couch, coming down from her excitement high, and kicked her feet up on the couch.

“He bolted when we left the meeting… I don’t know where he went, but I have a feeling about what he went to do.”

Of fucking course. Sal gave Ash a look of disappointment that radiated through his mask.

“Dude, you know how I feel about that shit. I don’t even want to be near him when he’s on it. It’s like he turns into a new person- a grosser, more vulgar version of Larry.”

Sal rolled his eyes at her response and grabbed his coat while he headed out to get Larry. Since his mom got remarried to an old friend about a year ago and left him with the basement, the tall brunette fell into a nasty habit. He tried keeping it a secret, but when Ash and Sal came over to brainstorm one night, they noticed the powdery residue on Larry’s coffee table. At first, they brushed it off like dust, but then they noticed Larry’s peculiarly large pupils and excessive sweating. He told them that he was fine, and he had just been working out and that he was just outside. After the session, Sal stayed back to make sure Larry was as okay as he said.

“Larry?” Sal creeped back into his friend’s room after parting ways with Ash. Larry was headbanging to Sanity Falls like he always did, but this time, it was more vigorous. It was like the air was pavement, and his head was a jackhammer. He didn’t seem to notice the short, blue haired boy in his doorframe, calling out to him. Suddenly, he felt two hands on his shoulders. He paused to see Sal, concern fulling his eyes.

When Sal looked into Larry’s eyes, he knew that something else was occupying the tall man’s thoughts. Larry unraveled from his hunched over position to hover over him, and he tilted the masked face up to meet his eyes.

“You have such beautiful eyes, Sally Face. Do you know that?”

Sal was in shock. Larry had not been this intimate with him since junior year of high school. Back then, they would steal kisses constantly. They would excuse themselves from the treehouse during smoke sessions with Ash and Todd (didn’t smoke, just made sure no one fell out of the hatch door) and have vicious make out in Larry’s room. When Todd and Ash grew suspicious of the two, they stopped. It’s not like their friends would judge them. The four of them were a very loving, accepting group. They stopped to not affect the group’s dynamic. If Sal and Larry got together, then everything would become weird. What if they all became distant because of their relationship? What if Ash and Todd grew insecure or grossed out because of the two? They didn’t want to risk it. It was hard at first, but slowly, it became their new norm. But in this instance, all that progress they made in the past three years had vanished.

“Uh- are you,” Sal coughed, trying to get a sentence out, “are you- like…”

“Am I like…what?” Larry’s words trailed out with seduction dripping from each one.

Sal felt the heat begin to radiate off his face and ricochet back from his mask. He was so glad his tall counterpart couldn’t see his pale face burn red because, knowing him, seeing Sal flustered made him even harder.

“Are you okay?”, Sal managed to blurt.

Larry cocked his head to side, tongue tracing his inner top lip.

“I’m much better now that you’re here, Blue.”

Oh god. He used one of Sal’s pet names. In that moment, Sal forgot why he was asking Larry if he was okay in the first place. He began to think the reason for the eyes and temperature was because Larry was probably suppressing resurfacing feelings. Boy, was he wrong!

“Larry, what are you doing?”

Larry wrapped an arm around Sal’s waist, keeping his gaze locked with the blue eyes that stared back at him in amazement. The feeling was so familiar. Sal felt as if they were back in high school, sneaking behind their friends for a quickie before they all hung out. Without thinking, Sal dissolved into his touch-submitting to his unconscious’s lack of judgement. Larry flicked his eyes to the straight, emotionless pair of lips sculpted on Sal’s mask and back to the blue eyes. Sal knew exactly what that meant. He reached back and unclicked the bottom buckle on his mask, sliding it up slightly to expose his real lips.

“All the way off. Please.”

The demand exited Larry’s mouth with a growl. Sal felt the words in his lower stomach. Complying, the mask was completely removed and set next to the radio that seized its noise long ago. Larry stood mesmerized by the mangled, scarred face of the blue haired boy in front of him. Then, a switch was flicked in his mind, and Sal’s heart flittered when he finally could recognize what the look in Larry’s eyes meant. Sal finally connected the dots and realized what was wrong with him, but in the moment…he didn’t care.

“Now the rest of it.”

Fall was colder that year. Sal slipped on his jacket but continued to shiver. He didn’t know how he would find Larry this time. Would it be on a curb, half dead from an overdose? Would he be sprawled out in a back alley with his organs plucked out of him to be sold on the black market? He never knew what condition he’d find the olive-skinned wild man- what situation he would have to dig the careless idiot out of. Sal marched to each spot they have picked Larry up, and he looked everywhere. Then a frantic hand waved in his direction. Thank god.

“Sally dude! You won’t believe what happened!” The tall man sprinted up to him. He wore a ragged, stained Sanity Falls shirt with a Sherpa collared denim jacket that probably was his dad’s. The jeans he wore were always ripped and frayed over his black sneakers. That’s one thing that has remained a constant in Larry’s life- his style. When he finally got to him, Sal put his hands on Larry’s face, opening his eyelids to examine his pupils.

“Dude, what the hell?”, Larry threw Sal’s hands off him.

“Just checking if you were-“

“Rocked off my shit? Ha- not this time. For once, I’m happy without it,” Larry gave Sal a sarcastic look, lifting his eyebrows and rolling his eyes, “ _Crazy_ , I know!”

“Why did you bolt from Ash then?”

“I went to my mom’s house. What, I’m gonna get amazing news and not tell her?” There was a brief silence as Sal realized he was wrong.

“Anyways, Sal, you will NEVER believe this. Strange Neighbors got signed with D.O.G. Records!”

“Yeah, Ash told me.”

“Oh… aren’t you excited?”

“I was, but my excitement was overruled by the fear of you being ‘rocked off your shit’ and spread-eagled on the pavement barely breathing!”

“Dude, relax. I told you where I was. You can call off the dogs, for fucks sake. Can’t you just be glad for once?”

Larry’s voice sounded genuinely hurt. Everything that has led up to Strange Neighbors getting signed has been because of Sal. If not for him, Ash and Larry would have unfitting lyrics, clashing chords, and revolting album covers. He was a wiz when it came to those things, and it amazed his friends that he wouldn’t just join the band. Without Sal, Ash and Larry would have probably already murdered each other. Sal took a deep breath and looked up to the brown eyed boy whose face was engulfed in a mix of happiness and sorrow—two completely opposite emotions that Larry seemed to pull off so evenly. He gave him a kind smile.

“You know I’m proud of you two,” he playfully punched Larry’s shoulder, “but don’t go getting a big ego.”

Larry leaned into Sal’s masked face with a smirk, “Oh, no worries. It’s already big enough.”

Sal pushed him back. After that night in Larry’s basement, their relationship was up in the air. Neither of them wanted to damage the connection of the group, but they both knew that something new had formed between them—something stronger than before. It was raw and ruthless yet pure and gentle. Sal and Larry thought about being an official couple, but now that Strange Neighbor signed with a record label, all hopes of a relationship would be thrown out the window.

“Los Angeles?”, Sal gasped.

There was a specific emotion that tinged Sal’s voice that no one could quite put their finger on. Was it fear? Was it confusion? Was it loss?

“I’m sorry, Sally. I forgot!”, Ash said as she put her hands up in defeat. She knocked some of the ash from her cigarette into the tray next to the couch. “Besides, it’s not permanent! Just until we get the first album out. Kenny said after that we’ll know about where we will go from there.”

Sal paced back and forth. Having just Ash or Larry away was one thing, but both of them? How was Sal going to get by? Todd was barely around when Sal was out of class, and other than those three, Sal didn’t have any other real close people to talk to. There was his dad, but it wasn’t the same as having Ash there as 3 AM to help Sal out of a panic attack or having Larry there to talk him back to sleep after a nightmare. He was going to be alone for the first time since he moved to Nockfell. His hands grew sweaty, and Ash heard deep, heavy breaths frantically coming from under his mask.

“Sal,” she sprung up to calm him down. When she tried to embrace him, he only pushed her away.

“Get away from me! Apparently, I need to get used to you guys leaving me.”

For some reason, this struck an odd nerve for Ash. She was usually so understanding and soft when it came to Sal, but something broke inside her.

“You’re being so selfish!”, she spat.

“Oh, I’M selfish? I’m not the one who stole your best friend after a year of what? NOTHING!”

Sal did have a point. Ash left out of nowhere and then suddenly appeared out of thin air, wanting to start a band with Larry. The rhythm that Sal and Larry once had was completely ruined and then mended half-assed-- of course Sal was pissed.

“Sal, I never stole Larry from you! He chose to do Strange Neighbors. Plus, he had a life before you even moved here!”

Suddenly, someone was unlocking the front door. There was an uncomfortable silence that engulfed the room when Larry entered the room, bags of fast food in hand. The scene he interrupted consisted of a short boy that was shaking like a hyena in the winter and a red-faced girl just a few feet away Ash smothered the butt of the cigarette into the first ash tray she saw and went to her room with a slam.

“Uh…What did I miss?”

There was another uncomfortable silence.

“You’re moving to LA?”, Sal’s voice was small, but Larry could hear it loud and clear.

Setting the bags down, he rushed to Sal who was still shaking. He wrapped his arms around him, even though the smaller protested. Eventually, Sal gave in. His mask filled with his tears and sobs.

“Why didn’t you tell me?”

“I didn’t think you would get so upset, baby blue. I was going to tell you when we talked about…everything.”

If there was anyone that had the miraculous powers to calm down Sal when he got so intensely frightened by the future, it was Larry Johnson. He asked to unclasp Sal’s mask after his sobbed started to sound less violent, and Sal nodded like a child who just had an exhausting tantrum. Larry put aside the mask and wiped the tears off Sal’s face with his jacket sleeve. He guided the scarred face to his, kissing Sal’s forehead lightly. Everyone knew Sal was always a softly once someone kissed his forehead.

“W-Why are you guys leaving me? Am I not good enough?”, Sal hiccupped between tearless cries.

“We aren’t leaving you forever! It’s for six months. Before you know it, we will be back in Nockfell, smoking, laughing, having a great time. We would never leave you, Sally Face.”

Sal rolled his eyes. Larry took him by the chin to look at him.

“ _I promise_ I will never leave you, Sally Face.”


	2. The Wretched

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Strange Neighbors has become a full fledged band now thanks to D.O.G. Records. Ash and Larry become the rockstars they always dreamed of being. They feel like they are on top of the world.
> 
> That is until Sal returns into the picture.

Such a genuine gesture should be believed, but somehow… Sal didn’t. Somehow, he knew that within the first month of their stay in LA, both Ash and Larry would cut all ties with anyone from Nockfell. The day the plane lifted off with the two in it, Sal knew that they weren’t coming back. Something in him said that LA would alter them in some way or another. Sal couldn’t hold back his tears when he saw pictures of Larry on their record label’s website. His eyes looked shallow, and although he had muscles that made him irresistible, he looked sick and malnourished compared to the Larry that Sal once knew…once loved. He drew the line there and texted Larry.

“Me or the drugs.”

Larry took little time to respond.

“Sal, what are you saying?”

“Me or the drugs. Either you have me and get help with your addiction, or you lose me.”

The conversation came at a bad time in Sal’s case. Larry had just snorted a line not long ago. He was on a fresh high that he never wanted to come off of. Three little dots indicated Larry was typing. Sent.

“Trust me, I won’t be losing much.”

As the months went on, Sal heard less and less from the two. Half a year quickly passed and still no sign of Larry or Ash ever returning to Nockfell. The brokenness Sal felt was different than ever before. Just when he thought life couldn’t have gotten worse, a notification goes off. It was a text message from Todd with the screenshot of a tweet that had Larry and Ash making out on stage during one of their debut shows. Larry was shirtless, red and purple lights illuminated his muscular frame decorated in many brand-new tattoos—symbols and images that seemed foreign to Sal. He looked untouchable, but then there, fingers laced in his long, brown locks, was Ash. She had her own share of new tattoos decorating her arms what were exposed through a thoroughly ripped, purple tank top. Her black bra showed as a silver collar and chains bounced off her chest in the heat of the picture. Then, Sal’s eyes made it up to where the two connected. Her tongue in his mouth, his hands on her ass. The tweet had something about “Lash” being their new favorite celebrity couple.

“Oh my fucking god. Ash and Larry are dating?”, read Todd’s text. He was almost as blown away and offended as Sal. He too got cut off from their lives, and it pissed him off. As if all the times he did their homework or wrote essays for them in exchange free of charge or anything meant nothing to them. Todd may have not been around the two as much as Sal, but he sympathized with the blue haired boy more than ever in that moment.

The whole world went in slow motion. Sal couldn’t believe it. Larry and Sal jumped through so many hoops to avoid this, but a few months in California changed those two so much so that they were not only ignoring Sal, but they are forgetting all connections to their past. They were supposed to be the type of best friends who always fight, not the type that always fuck. This discovery ignited something new in Sal—a raging fire that he could not subside. His usual lighthearted nature vanished into a void of anger and the desire for revenge.

“Todd, what would you say to starting a band?”

Sal saw Todd type, stop for a minute, and then continue.

“Fuck yeah.”

Not only was Sal determined to surpass Strange Neighbors, but he planned on abandoning his old self like they did. California changed Larry and Ash, and Sal needed a change too. He lost what he once found himself in. It was their turn to lose something.

Todd moved his classes online while Sal dropped out of school altogether. At first his dad didn’t enjoy him leaving college when he was so close to finishing, but he saw the fire behind Sal’s eyes and knew this may make his son feel whole again. With many mixing sessions and practices, Todd and Sal became Nockfell’s new rising stars. They called themselves “The Wretched”, and the new rivalry between the two bands was going to take the world by storm.

-The Present-

Critics and fans were writhing back and forth with the band line up for Ground Sound in August, the biggest musical festival/competition in the US. No one could believe that Strange Neighbors and The Wretched would be sharing a stage. The drama between the two bands grew as The Wretched got signed to Red-Eye Records, the rival company to Strange Neighbors’, D.O.G. Records. Two bands from the same small town with a once repressed past were now in the forefront of the music industry. When Sal and Todd played their first show, they showed videos from Ash and Larry’s past with the two. It was all planned by Red-Eye to boost publicity, so even though Todd and Sal found it tacky, they just felt their blood boil when choosing which videos and photos they’d use. They called Strange Neighbors leading lady and man out on their bullshit about being two lonely musicians who “never had any friends as kids”, causing them to form a band. Clips of the four of them smoking in Larry’s basement and photos from homecomings and proms spread across the internet like a forest fire. While D.O.G. scampered to fabricate stories on how to dismiss the accusations, Ash and Larry just sat back and watched as Sal and Todd continued to call them out.

They found it almost funny. Ash knew that the image the company made them was based on lies, but she knew that that’s the way these big shot companies make money. Larry saw the whole situation as a desperate cry from Sal for his attention, something he regretted ever giving up. He began to see this as a way to get under Sal’s skin for making him decide between his two favorite obsessions. Ash sat on the couch in the greenroom tuning her guitar, cigarette balanced between her lips casually. Larry stared up at the ceiling, waiting for his high to kick in. They waited in near silence as their opening act played. The only people talking were their drummer and bassist. During their first week in Los Angeles, Kenneth, AKA Kenny and the owner/head of D.O.G. , held auditions so the band wasn’t just “two wannabes on an empty stage”, as he said. The drummer was a guy by the name of Phillip who didn’t talk much but played like a mad man. He was an easy choice for their band as he never talked back and had a forgettable face. Their bassist, Maple, was anything but forgettable. Kenny said she was a “treat to the guys who liked curvier girls” and was “a good contrast to Ash.” Obviously, neither girls liked being viewed as objects to men, so they made it their personal mission to be more than that just to spite Kenny. Along with new bandmates, Strange Neighbors got a personal assistant, Chug. They were not used to having someone at their command ever second, but boy did they take advantage of it. While between getting water and hot towels for the band, Chug talked to Maple, and it was clear that there could be something there.

“Alright everyone, get your asses up, and get ready to take the stage.”

Travis Phelps, son of their boss, burst into Strange Neighbors’ green room. He took being the manager too seriously, but it was understandable why he did it. This was his chance to prove to his dad that he could be the future head of D.O.G. It wasn’t his biggest dream to lead it, but he was afraid of what his father would think of him if he didn’t. In his attempts to be a good manager, he came across as a huge dick who was invincible as the boss’s son. That didn’t stop Larry from getting on Travis’s every nerve whenever he could.

“Travis, I think I’m having a heart attack.”, Larry gasped as he grabbed his chest dramatically.

The blonde boy rushed towards him in a panic as Larry rived as if he was dying. The fear in Travis’s voice was not from concern but worry about what his dad would think if he allowed the gorgeous face of the band to die from an overdose under his “strict” watch. Larry slumped over on himself, and Travis viciously shook his seemingly lifeless body. Slowly, Larry’s laughs became more audible as he started to sit up. Everyone knew that he was joking in the first place, earning an eyeroll from Ash the moment he started to pretend. No matter how many times he did it, Travis still fell for Larry’s fake overdose bit. Travis’s face grew red with embarrassment, and he slapped Larry on the arm.

“Stop being such a jackass and get ready”, Travis said as he exited the room quickly.

Larry couldn’t stop laughing as he left. It was a classic to him, no matter how annoyed it made his bandmate. Then, he pat his knees as he stood up and stretched.

“Alright, you heard the twink. Let’s go,” he said he slipped on his leather jacket.

“One day, you’re going to have a real overdose, and no one will know if you are faking or not, so you’ll just die.”, Ash said harshly, slinging her guitar behind her back. She crushed her cigarette in the tray next to her before she made her way to the door. Larry turned, leaning on the doorframe. When she tried to walk out, Larry’s arm prevented her from walking out. He took her by the chin and angled her face to his.

“That’s the dream, baby.”

Rolling her eyes, Ash jerked her face out of his hand but gave him hers in return. He held it, intertwining their fingers as they roamed the hallways of the venue. The rest of the band followed behind. This was the routine before almost every show. Even though they barely spoke backstage, their music spoke for them. Their new life was a massive change for each member, so they still needed to adjust. One thing that always stayed constant was the music.

Within minutes, Strange Neighbors graced the stage with their presence. Larry at the mic, Ash just left to him, guitar at the ready, Maple to his right, bass balanced on her hips, and Phillip behind, drumsticks ready to attack. The whole auditorium was blacked out. No lights other than the shine off the instruments. Ash reared her arm back and forcefully strummed down on her guitar, lights illuminating the band from the behind, exposing only each of their distinct poses and figures. The crowd ate up their opening. As the chord began to fade, Larry pressed the mic to his lips.

“St.Louis,” he said, making the crowd erupt with cheers and screams. He paused for a second.

“Are you ready for a night you’ll never forget?”

Suddenly, all the lights came up on the band as Ash began the riff to their opening song. Phillip beat the drums with passionately behind her, and Maple soon followed with her bass. He and Ash went back and forth at each other, alternating between singing and shouting. Their faces crimson with determination and energy. Larry looked out to the crowd as he yelled lyrics. As he saw each poster praising him and his bandmates, his ego grew bigger, but one poster took him by surprise. A bright blue poster with a familiar mask and a pair of round glasses crossed out in red paint stood out. The words “Fuck The Wretched” in big letters. Larry couldn’t help but smirk and motion to the person holding the sign that he approved.

After a few songs, the band took a small break to talk to the crowd one on one. Usually, this was where Larry and Ash would joke around with each other and the fans, but Kenny had a mandatory script for this show.

“So, I’m sure you all know about what those two pricks did at their little concert, and you guys probably want answers”, Ash started. “Yeah, that was us in those pictures and videos.”

The crowd looked around slightly confused as to why they were lied to.

“When Strange Neighbors got signed to D.O.G.,” Ash continued, “those two assholes were jealous. They made a whole scene about how they wished that we all had never met, but they’ll never tell you that.”

“Yeah, they’ll never tell you about how that Sally Face begged on his knees to make me stay.” Larry said.

“Never tell you how Todd told us he never even wanted to do music until we got famous.”

“Forgetting those losers was the best thing to happen to us,” Larry lied. Struck with an idea, he went off script to say, “and, uh, Sally Face, I have a little something for you.”

He slowly and seductively walked up to Ash and held her face just inches away from his. Although it was a bit of a surprise to her, Ash went along with it, knowing that whatever he was going to do would make the fans go crazy. Then, he brought the mic up enough that it could echo throughout the auditorium.

“Her kisses taste a lot better than plastic ones.”

With that, their mouths connected sloppily. Larry grabbed at her ass roughly as the crowd went wild. Cameras flashed everywhere. Fans spread a video of the message across all social media, and ,of course, it made its way to Sal.

“Um????? @TheWretched @SallyFace, is there more to this rivalry than we know?”, read a fan’s tweet with the video attached.

At first, Sal chose not to watch the video. He knew it would do nothing but make him angrier than he already was. For all he cared, the two could drop dead, and he wouldn’t care. Todd watched the video for him and told him how fake they sounded.

“It’s like their a pair of puppets. Gross, disgusting puppets.”

It was obvious that they were just doing it for the publicity they’d get, but it didn’t make it any less painful. Eventually, Sal gave in and watched the video. The insult rang through his head as he watched Larry push his tongue in Ash’s mouth. Sal’s nails dug into his palms, leaving bloody crescents, and under his mask, tears ran down his cheeks. How could Larry just leave him like this? How could Ash just suddenly like him? Nothing made sense. He rewatched the video over and over again. The first couple of times was to focus on each word they said, and then he imagined how different it would be if that was him in Ash’s place. The latter thought made hatred and genuine jealousy engulf himself. He grabbed his notebook to write down every single emotion he was feeling. Sal was going to hit them back, and it was going to be harder than they could ever imagine.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> When I am writing this in Word, it feels so much longer than about 2,540 words, but here we are.  
> Also, yes, Ash and Larry are major dicks, and Sal is a bitter bastard. It may seem a little unwonted (using an old vocab word I remember from high school, look at me), but I have my reasons.


	3. "Wait...is that Sally Face?"

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A new song by The Wretched sends Strange Neighbors' leads into a spiral before a gig.

Luke Holmes, head of Red-Eye Records, scanned the pages full of lyrics mixed with scribbles. The songs Sal wrote were always so well thought out and concise, but this one was completely different than any other one. It was like a bomb set off on the page. The language was vulgar but raw, and Luke saw dollar signs all over that crumbled piece of paper. Sal and Todd sat across from him, silently. Todd rested his laptop with a rough version of the song in GarageBand, and Sal slouched down in his seat, arms crossed. When Sal slammed Todd’s door open the night he saw the video, Todd knew that they were about to spend the whole night writing and recording a song. They furiously went all guns blazing for this song, and Sal called Luke the next day demanding a meeting first thing that morning. Luke usually didn’t allow his talent to boss him around, but something in Sal’s voice seemed so profound. It was almost threatening.

After Luke listened to the rough track, he slid the piece of paper back to the blue haired boy.

“So, I take it that the whole Strange Neighbor confrontation got to you, Sally?”

Sal just nodded.

“I think this song will be what proves who the better band is. I’ll get a studio for you two as soon as tomorrow afternoon, so come ready to work. No dicking around like usual.”

Luke dismissed the two. Shutting the office door, Sal let out a deep sigh as if he had been holding his breath the whole meeting.

“You okay, Sal?” Todd asked, gently patting Sal’s back.

“I will be after I shut this shit is down.”

The release of The Wretched’s single “Treehouse” took fans by big surprise. The title made it seem like the song would be more lighthearted, but it was far from it. For once, it wasn’t Todd singing lead. It was Sal. Something as simple as that changed the mood of the song completely. Fans who were so used to hearing Sal in the background went wild hearing his vocals so clearly. The sound of him switching between singing and screaming the sinister lyrics made girls’ hearts soar and guys’ heads bang harder than ever.

Lyrics like “remember in the treehouse/with my hands on your chest/remember in the treehouse/when you moaned that I’m the best” and “I see how you look at her/and all I can see/is when you kiss her/that you’re thinking of me” made Larry furious. The song was released just days before a Strange Neighbors’ gig, but somehow it was already playing over the speakers of the bar before the opening act started.

“Wait…is that Sally Face?” Maple asked, looking to the lead guitarist with shocked eyes.

“It can’t be. I don’t think he even--”, Phillip tried to say before being cut off by Ash.

“Shut the hell up!” She stood there, hands out, frozen to listen. The green room was completely silent.

“That’s….That’s Sal”, she turned around to Larry, eyes like saucers, “That’s Sal motherfucking Fisher.”

He took the glass he had been sipping whiskey from and slammed it on the ground violently before leaving the room. Travis tried to chase after him, but Ash forced herself in front of him, knowing that if he did that, it wouldn’t be pretty. Larry shut the bathroom door so hard, the paper towel dispenser fell straight off the wall. The sound was like an explosion. Even people in the bar could hear it from their seats. The bathroom reeked of shit and weed. Broken, flickering fluorescent lights barely lit the room. It was an excellent place for a total mental breakdown.

Larry gripped the sink like it was the only thing keeping him alive and looked at himself in the mirror, hair covering parts of his disgruntled face. He didn’t see the godlike lead singer of a band—he saw the husk of a brokenhearted teenager who got away. The dark brown eyes that peered back lost their once vibrant spark. His blood felt hotter than ever. All he could think about was the sound of Sal’s voice and those stupid lyrics, Larry’s tears cascaded down his face and into the sink. He could probably fill the entire bathroom with his tears if he wanted to, but instead, he took a plastic bag from his back pocket and dipped his finger in the white substance. Rubbing the powder on his gums, he desperately prayed that this time would either get him high fast or finally kill him. At this point, he didn’t matter which one he got. He just wanted the pain in his heart gone.

The green room felt like purgatory. Everyone was waiting for the verdict—waited to see if Larry was coming back or not. When the opening act got halfway through their set, Ash went to check on him. She turned the knob to no avail. Banging on the door, she called out to him through it.

“Larry? Are you alright in there?”

No answer.

“Look, I know this whole thing has been so shitty to go through, but we just have to get through it.”

Still no answer. Ash grew anxious.

“Ba-,” she began but she knew it wasn’t the time to think about who was listening, “Dude. Please just say something. You’re freaking me out.”

Nothing. Her heart pounded hard as she thought of ways to either break down the door or at least break the knob to get in. With a swift kick, her black 3-inch platform shoe connected with the middle of the bathroom door. It wasn’t enough. She tried three more times, but no progress. Ash then threw her whole body at the door, hopelessly trying to get to her best friend. After her attempts proved useless, she collapsed at the bottom of the door and cried. Her once pretty eyeliner streaked down her cheeks with black residue following them.

“I’m calling 9-1-1. Don’t worry, Larry,” she said in utter defeat.

Suddenly, the bathroom door flew open. Ash nearly fell inside but balanced herself. Her eyes trailed up the body of whoever opened the door.

“Get it all out of your system?”

“You piece of shit.”

Larry laughed as he helped Ashley up from the floor. She pushed him as hard as she could.

“What the hell, Larry! I thought your dumbass died or something!”

She hit him in the chest repeatedly, not enough to hurt him but enough to get her anger across to him. He deserved it. The joke got old faster with each time he did it. Between punches, Larry grabbed both of her wrists and pulled her closer to him.

“Hey, someone could hear you,” he whispered, checking the hallways, “I’ll talk to you on the bus. Right now, you need to go fix your pretty, little face because, honestly Ash, you look awful.”

She rolled her eyes.

“And we have a show to do. No matter what Sal does, _we_ are Strange Neighbors and those are _our_ fans, and they need us right now.”

Ash ripped her wrists from his grasp but noticed white residue on the side of his mouth. She gave him a disappointed look before wiping it off with her thumb.

“You’d think that after you lost the so called ‘love of your life’ because of this, you’d stop.”

He shrugged cynically, “Ha, you’d think.”

The green room sighed with relief when they saw Larry enter the room. Travis nearly let loose on him before Chug stopped him and asked if he could help set up the merchandise table. The diversation kept him occupied and cooled him down. Ash ran to the mirror to check her makeup. Larry was right. She did look awful. Her eyes were bloodshot and mascara streaks stained her cheeks. She quickly scampered to fix her makeup. Out of nowhere, Larry sat next to the vanity she was at and demanded eyeliner.

“Literally five minutes ago, you tricked me into thinking you were dead. I’m not doing your makeup, asshole.”

“I’m not asking you to do it. I’m asking you to give it to me.”

Ash huffed as she gave him the eyeliner pencil. He stood over her in the mirror and drew thick black lines under his eyes like how he did in high school. For Strange Neighbors, his eyeliner was usually neat only to be ruined from sweating on stage, but this look was more intense. It made him look sick—sick but sexy. Larry turned to Phillip and Maple for approval. Barely looking up from his phone, the bright blue haired drummer gave a thumbs up as Maple nodded, corners of her mouth turned down and eyebrows raised. She was kind of impressed by how much different it made him look. The others may have seen this Larry as new, but to Ash, this was the Larry that she’d paint and hang out with after school. She could recognize him, and when Larry looked at himself, he began to recognize himself again, too.

Strange Neighbors’ set went terrible. Lyrics were forgotten. Voices cracked. Guitars were out of tune. Every element of the show seemed disastrous, but the eyeliner somehow made up for it. Thousands upon thousands of fans reposted pictures of Larry’s “new” look, eclipsing the other posts about how horrible the show was. Kenny texted Larry, scolding him for changing his look without consulting him, but after seeing the response it got, he told Larry to do it more often.

After eating dinner provided by the venue, Strange Neighbors loaded the van for another long journey to the next city. Maple sat next to Chug, listening to him talk about possible restaurants they could stop at when they got a break. Travis sat in the passenger seat next to the bus driver, quietly reading a book, face implying he was still upset with Larry about his outburst. Phillip went immediately to his bunk to pass out. In the back master bedroom sat Larry and Ash. Both of them had replaced their sweaty, smelly stage clothes with pajamas. Ash’s light purple oversized t-shirt pooled around her, covering her bare legs slightly. She didn’t really care if Larry saw anymore than that. After all, they were as the fans said, “in love.” Larry laid back on the bed, one hand resting behind his head, the other on his bare stomach. The two sat in silence.

“Are you going to tell me what set you off tonight?”, Ash asked, breaking the once blissful quiet.

Larry swallowed, “You heard his song, Ash. I really fucked up.”

She pursed her lips and nodded.

“I already feel bad enough that we had to leave him and Todd back in Nockfell, that we had to force ourselves to forget them, that we have to lie about basically everything we do! Now, he writes a song, reminding me that I left him after I explicitly told him I wouldn’t a-and—I- ,” Larry’s breathing started to pick up and drops of regret and sorrow pooled into his tired, dark eyes.

Ash scooted up to him and placed his head in her lap, something she used to do with Sal when he would have panic attacks. She combed through his hair and just let him cry. Since he started doing more and more coke, these moments because rare. He stopped letting himself from being vulnerable like this. Before she knew it, Ash began crying too. For so long, they thought this was their dream, but they remembered whenever they pictured this, Sal was with them. Sal was the one shredding his guitar with Ash, back to back. Sal was the one Larry would pull in for a quick kiss on stage. Realizing their mistake didn’t make the moment any better.

“Do you think we’ll ever be able to be together again?”, Larry asked, wiping a tear off his cheek.

“Yeah,” Ash sniffled, “we’ll piece ourselves back together before tomorrow.”

“No. I’m not talking about _us_.”

“Oh?” She paused in confusion until it hit her, “Oh… You know. I don’t think so, but I really hope so.” She put her face in her hands and repeated, “I really hope so, Larry.”

He sat up and held his best friend in his arms. They spent the rest of the night like that—crying and taking turns holding the other as they cried. Their regrets consumed them, and they let it happen. In the morning, they'd only remember fragments of the night. Memories got suppressed by exhaustion and tears.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> LONG NOTE BUT PLEASE READ  
> The chapters start to vary in length, but it is because I am separating them to be more interesting than longer. I put the words "treehouse" together, and I know it's wrong but it just feels better to me, y'know?  
> ****Also, it has come to my attention that a lot of people are saying they don't necessarily like WDHTD because the characters act completely different to how they are shown in the game. I liked the story because of the angst and slow burn more than the characters, so I am indifferent. It makes me worry for my own piece as this is based off that story. I know that my depictions of the characters vary than how they are written, but while recognizing this, I am portraying them in an uncharacteristic light to later mold their characters into something similar to their game version.  
> ***Another thing I recognize is I did put "smut" in this, but I have realized that I am no good at writing it. I think it would spice this up a bit, but I don't want to write something ridiculous like "he put his peepee in and moaned so hard it caused an earthquake" and people to leave because they wanted some smutty goodness. I don't know anymore.  
> **Last part of this note, I promise--when I wrote Chapter 3, the story was going to take a completely different turn than the one it ended up taking, but the way it's going now is a bit more angsty and focused on the friendship of the four. I was going to make it SOLELY about Sal and Larry fucking/fucking up, but honestly, the four of them need to just chill the fuck out. Anyways...see ya later.


	4. Memories and Moody Managers

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> After a sob filled night of regret, Ash and Larry recall some old Nockfell memories before returning back to their usual selves. Travis has big news for the band.

When Chug went to the back to wake them up, he found Larry and Ash holding each other like the world was ending, not even under the covers. They must have fallen asleep while in a sobbing stupor. Chug silently slid the back door closed.

“Well? Are they awake?” Travis was not in the mood to wait on the two. Everyone on the bus was starving and ready to eat.

“I think that they should just rest.”, Chug said with a softened face.

“Bullshit, they sleep in all the time!” The hangry (emphasis on the angry) manager went to bang on the back door before Maple took his arm.

“Dude just chill out. You know how hard they take bad shows. Let’s just go eat and wake them up when we come back.”

Maple had a point. Whenever the shows didn’t go exactly the way they wanted, Ash and Larry would beat themselves up about it. Much like the night before, they would lock themselves away and do nothing but go over the set over and over again in their heads. Anything less than incredible was a failure to the two. Travis rolled his eyes and just turned to grab his schedule.

“Okay fine, but if we are late to a meet and greet, it definitely won’t be my head on a stake!”

Maple got Ash’s phone from her bunk and gently set it in the room on the bed. If there was an emergency, she wanted the two to be able to pick up the phone or call. With that, the rest of the bandmates and bus driver left the tour bus, locking it behind them.

About twenty minutes passed and Larry woke up. When he felt someone in his arms, it kind of shocked him to see brown hair. He unwrapped himself from Ash, careful to not wake her up. He made his way to the bus’s bathroom and look a long look at himself. Black lines coming from his eyes reminded him that he never took off his eyeliner last night. He splashed his face with cold water in attempts to wash away the old makeup and his guilt. Leaving the bathroom, he heard Ash waking up.

“Good morning. You look like shit.”, he said in the doorframe, a shit-eating grin painting his face.

“Gee thanks,” Ash retorted. When she tried sitting up, her head throbbed. “Jesus Christ,” she quickly held her head, “I feel like I got punched in the face a thousand times.”

“You look like it too.”

“Do you have an off switch?”

“Wouldn’t you like to know?”

“Ew, Larry. It’s too early for that.”

Larry spun on his heels to the kitchen area in the bus. He pulled the first aid kit out and got four aspirins and two water bottles from the mini fridge. Returning to the back room, he gave Ash a water bottle and placed the two pills in her palm. They downed the pills in unison and waited for it to kick in. The two laid back down, staring at the ceiling.

“What are we going to do about The Wretched?”

“We’re using the band name now?”

“Yeah. I find it easier to not think about the individuals but the band as a whole. We hate the band, not the people, right?”

Larry scoffed, “Starting to feel both.”

Ash sighed, “Me too.”

“I think we should just carry on, business as usual. This is going to blow over sooner or later, and at Ground Sound, we’ll kick their asses and that’ll shut them up.”

Ash wished that’s how it would go. If everything went as Larry said, both parties would be miserable, but at least the drama would be over—hopefully. Ground Sound felt so far away. Would they have to deal with The Wretched all the way up to the festival? That would be hell for the duo.

Once their headaches faded, Ash found her phone on the edge of the bed and texted Maple asking where they went. She told her that they were across the street at a breakfast joint. Ash and Larry put on some comfortable clothes. While in the bathroom to touch up her makeup, she heard an intense breath in coming from out the door. She whipped the door open to Larry rubbing his nose.

“Dude, seriously?”

“Look, it is the only thing that’s keeping me awake at this point.”

“You know somebody drink this magical liquid called ‘coffee’ to feel awake, you should try switching to it sometime!”

“Trade my drug for a different drug? Hm, nah, but if you give me ten minutes, I’ll be high on both.”

After locking the bus door, Ash and Larry made their way to the rest of the group. A bell rang as they entered the diner. It had red and white booths that took customers back to a simpler time. The floor was covered in black and white tiles, and in the corner sat a jukebox playing old 60s music. Very retro. The place kind of looked like the diner they had in Nockfell. Larry leaned into Ash as they made their way to the booth where Maple was motioning them to.

“Remember when we all would go to the diner downtown and talk for hours?”

Ash laughed, “Oh my god, remember when they nearly kicked us out for being too loud?”

“We were never almost kicked out!”

“Yeah, we were! You and Sal got in that heated argument about hotdogs being sandwiches where you slammed your hand on the table while pointing in his face that-“

“ ‘If the internet says it’s a sandwich, it’s a fucking sandwich.’ I almost forgot about that,” Larry looked to be struck with an idea as he grabbed Ash’s arm in excitement, “Wait, that was the night Todd tried drinking water through his nose. Do you still have the video?”

He knew Ash always kept funny videos or photos on her phone, transferring them over if need be.

“I think I do!”, Ash beamed.

This was the first time in months that Ash and Larry seemed to be enjoying themselves. Behind the scenes, the two stayed away from each other. Whenever they did hang out together, they would end up arguing about small things like how Larry wasn’t loud enough on a certain song or how Ash’s guitar riffs didn’t seem clean enough. Once they got on stage or in the public’s eye, the two were the complete opposite. Where they would sit miles apart backstage, they couldn’t keep their hands off each other on stage. Their arguments were nonexistent, and each time they looked at each other, their expressions made it seem like they thought they were the only two in the room.

“Are you two alright? Chug said you two looked dead when he went to wake you guys up.” Maple studied their movements as they scooted into the booth across from her and Chug. They sat closer than usual, whipping their phones out quickly. Even for how they regularly act in public, their attitudes lacked the malicious undertones that would coat their words and actions.

“Uh, yeah! Just… bad shows and headaches, y’know?”, Larry said, scrolling through his phone. He flashed it over to Ash, and she just laughed and showed him something on hers.

The green hair guy and purple haired girl looked at each other, then to the two foreign beings sitting across from them, then back to each other, and back to the two again.

“I’m sorry, but Ash did you snort some of Larry’s heroine this morning?”

“You don’t snort heroine, Maple… At least, I haven’t.”

After playfully rolling her eyes at the tall brunette next to her, Ash shook her head. She knew the reason her and Larry seemed like they were making amends. They finally addressed their biggest regret, but she knew their next problem would be getting over it. They couldn’t survive off the memories of friendship forever.

“I guess Larry got the aspirins with caffeine in them.”, she said with a shrug.

They ordered their drinks and food, and as they waited, Ash and Larry looked at old pictures of the gang from back in high school. When they were told to cut off connections with Nockfell, Larry and Ash were told to block every contact from Nockfell Obviously, they saved their pictureOne time, Larry got so excited to show Ash a picture of Sal from a late-night snack run that he nearly knocked over his coffee. Luckily, Chug was there to quickly save it with only a few drops splatted on the table.

“Okay, guys, what are you two so giddy about? I swear it looks like I’m watching two teenagers sharing memes or something!”, Chug said, heart still racing from the close call.

The two looked at each other, and ,for a second, they saw exactly that. Two teenagers having a good laugh over fond memories and good friends. Then, reality set in. Larry’s baby face was more chiseled as stubble lined his jaw. He had grown into his beak of a nose. It was still a fairly big nose, but people usually dismissed it when they glanced at his body. Veins protruded on his surprisingly muscular arms that were speckled with tattoos. After high school, he hit a growth spurt that made him taller than all of his friends, which wasn’t a spectacular feat, but he liked to think it was. Ash’s cheekbones were more prominent as she matured. She learned how to do her makeup properly and not just swipe a thick line of black liquid liner on her eyelids. Her body wasn’t as thin as it used to be. She was still small, but now, she had noticeable breast and hips that made her look less like a parallelogram. Her arms, much like Larry’s, displayed colorful images up to her shoulders. She wore low cut shirts more often to show the tattoos decorated her collarbones. Time had truly changed them.

They blinked out of their thoughts and stuttered to make up something.

“We—um—posted nudes last night and uh—,” Ash covered Larry’s mouth before he could finish.

“He’s being stupid,” she explained as Larry lowered her hand in offense, “We are—looking at all the photos of Larry from last night. It’s all over our timelines!”

A valid excuse from Miss Campbell.

Maple and Chug both nodded in realization.

“Same here! Man, you nearly broke Twitter with just a bit of eyeliner!”

“Well, Chuggie, when you’re a god, you can break anyone you want whenever you want to.”, Larry cooed, cockily placing his arms behind his head.

Ash hit the egotistical musician in the chest. He _did_ give her an open shot. He did have a point though. Larry had such a powerful hold on their audience. Afterall, he was part of the face of Strange Neighbors. He was the one all the fangirls fantasized about and the one the guys wanted to look and be like. Yeah, people loved Ash and her badass, warrior woman essence, but it was obvious that Larry was the fan favorite. If he told his fans to do or say something, they’d follow him blindly. He _was_ like a god. First, he didn’t think much of it, but now, he was in love with it.

After breakfast, the group trudged to the bus for another three hours of traveling before they got to the venue. The whole way back to the black tour bus, blood red, eerie letters spelling out the band name, Travis was talking everybody’s heads off about how they needed to be more punctual and how they probably wouldn’t have enough time to go to the hotel between getting to the next city and doing the meet and greet. Everyone tuned him out.

“Oh, and you two,” Travis pointed at Ash and Larry sitting on the couch, still looking through old photos, “stop being so bitchy all the time. Since Sally Fuck came out with that song, fans are already making theories about how you don’t like her and are a homo or something.”

“But Travis… What if I _do_ feel that way?”, Larry leaned forward, resting his elbows on his knees. Eyes half lidded tried enchanting his manager’s across from him.

“Don’t be like that,” Travis diverted his eyes to his clipboard.

“But Travy—”, Larry slumped over, pretending to be heartbroken by his words.

“Don’t call me that, hippie.”

“Aw, now, don’t hurt my feelings, Travy.”

Larry began to crawl up to their manager, earning a laugh from Ash and Maple. They were kind of relieved he didn’t do the stupid overdose bit. He looked up at the blonde boy from between his legs. Travis used the clipboard to cover the brunette’s face, but Larry insisted he put it aside.

“Larry, I will break your fucking nose if you don’t stop right now.”, Travis’s red face was obvious to everyone in the room.

“I’d rather you break by back with your humongous, raging bone—”

Ash came up behind him and hit him with a pillow on the back.

“Stop it!”, she playfully yelled, “Down boy. You’re scaring him.”

Larry collapsed to the bus floor where Ash proceeded to hit him with the pillow. They were laughing a lot more than…ever, actually. Seeing Larry and Ash getting along was horrifying to the other bandmates. It made them wonder if the world was about to end.

Once they all settled down, Travis’s cellphone buzzed. After looking at the caller ID and making a distressed expression in response, he retreated to the back room, and everyone watched the closed door in anticipation. Travis usually gave that face when he knew his dad was calling to criticize him and/or the group. The air seemed to leave the bus.

“What if Kenny is letting us go?”, Phillip said, barely looking up from his deck of cards. Maple slapped his arm.

“Don’t give me anxiety. It’s too early for that!”

“It’s twelve thirty!”

“Exactly!”

Larry and Ash’s thoughts swarmed their mind. What if that really were the case? What if Kenny thinks they can’t move past the Strange Neighbors versus The Wretched drama and thinks starting a new band with completely different people was the best choice? Larry’s hands got clammy, for more reasons than one, and retreated to the bathroom. Ash’s eyes stayed fixated on the door. She knew that if anyone was getting replaced, it would be her. A pretty guitarist would be easy to find. Compared to Larry, she felt indispensable. Suddenly, after about five minutes of anticipation, a cheer came from the backroom.

When Travis walked out to all eyes on him, he gave them a mixed look of confusion and offense.

“What are you all looking at?”

“Well, who was that? What did they say?”, Maple asked, placing her colorful cards face down on the table.

Travis wasn’t used to the band giving him positive attention, so he milked it as much as he could.

“Guess!”

“No!” The purple haired bassist mocked his tone, receiving an eye roll.

“Fine!”, Travis huffed, “Mr.Phelps—”

Phillip turned to laugh, “You call your dad ‘Mr.Phelps’?”

The blonde gave the usually quiet drummer a look of aggravation, making the latter sink into his seat.

“As I was saying, he told me that an infamous radio station near our next venue wants us on their show, but he didn’t know if they still wanted to have it after the whole—,” he gestured a hand over to Ash and the empty spot Larry once say, “ –that thing. Turns out, they want you guys more than ever. Tomorrow, we’ll be on Miami Maniacs afternoon show.”

“That’s really short notice, dude.”, Ash remarked.

“But we’re already going to be in Miami for tonight’s show! Plus, you guys have three free days in Florida before we make our way back to California.”

As much as Ash liked the thought of an interview, she knew it would be flooded with questions for Larry about the whole song thing and about the validity of their relationship. Her stomach sank. Larry exited the bathroom with a sniff, almost slamming the door on Travis’s face.

“Watch it, druggie.”

Larry moved to the side and motioned Travis to walk in front of him as if he were a king entering his palace. When he sat by Ash, he noticed her blank expression.

“What I miss?”

Maple spoke up from the table where she was playing card games with the guys.

“Interview tomorrow.”

“Ah, I knew those vultures would jump on the whole Sally Face thing…Y’know what? I welcome it. I can’t wait to see the look on their faces when we,” Larry put his arm around Ash and pulled her near him, “are no joke.”

Ash broke from his grasp and went straight to her bunk. He briefly looked offended before he just shrugged and used the extra space on the couch to kick up his feet. That’s the Larry and Ash that their bandmates knew. For a moment, they were worried they were in an alternate dimension.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey, c.milk here. My brain has been so foggy from finals, and I feel like I'm spiraling. It's a strange feeling that I thought I'd be used to by now but I'm not. I'm starting to feel like anything I write is shitty and not worth posting/finishing. I've hit a sore point on this story (the first 10 or so chapters were written a while ago, by the way). It feels less like MY story and more like a retelling of WDHTD but without the sex scenes and well written imagery. Well, I guess I'll just try my best until I eventually give up.


	5. I Can't Believe He's Not a Dad!

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> After a emotionally trying night, The Wretched travel to the next stop on their short tour, and they settle in a hotel where curious characters fill the hallways.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Alt. summary: Sal is a salty, oblivious bitch who needs a nap, and Neil is such a dad.  
> TW: self harm

Sal and Todd bowed as the crowd cheered their names and praises. They weren’t quite finished yet. Sal took the mic from the stand and motioned for the sound team to play a track. Todd ran to his drums and began hitting the bass drum. The riff to “Treehouse” echoed throughout the venue.

“For this song, Tallahassee, I want to guys to think about anyone who has ever left you or fucked your life up!”

More of the introduction played as he gave the audience time to get their person of disinterest in their mind.

“Now, I want you to scream out their name and any nasty, vulgar, disgusting words that come to your mind when I think about them! Scream it out so all of Florida can hear it!”

There was a pause in the music as Sal put his mic out to the crowd, amplifying their voices even louder.

“Larry Johnson! Motherfucking cocksucker!”, Sal screamed into the cacophony of nauseating words.

He didn’t care if anyone heard him. Right now, he was in control. He knew that his song would ruin Larry, and maybe even Ash, but he didn’t care. All he wanted was the pain in his heart to be gone. Whether that was through hurting feeling or hurting himself, he didn’t care. Time changed Sal too. Nearly three years of being lost and forgotten broke him down. His once calm and compassionate personality was replaced with bitterness and uncharacteristic desire for vengeance against the people who made him that was. His coping mechanisms grew destructive, much like Larry’s, but his were more physical…more bloody.

As the boys bowed once again to officially conclude their show, fans threw various gifts at him. Todd picked up a pride flag and waved it proudly as the crowd roared. Suddenly, a Strange Neighbors t-shirt was thrown on the stage. Why someone would bring that to their concert is beyond them. Sal thought the shirt was just a fan gift until he saw the red logo on the front. He wadded up the shirt and threw it over his shoulder as he coldly walked off stage, never giving the final bow. It took Todd a second to realize Sal had left, so when he looked over his shoulder to see an empty stage, his face flushed in embarrassment as he awkwardly went off stage.

“What the hell, dude? You left me hanging out there!”

“I wish I were being hanged out there!”

“Why? We did great—incredible, actually! That was probably our best gig yet!”

Sal rolled his blue eyes.

“Some dick threw a Strange Neighbors shirt on stage.”

Todd folded into himself, cringing that it was Sal that saw it and regretting he ever asked. All he could say was yikes. Out of the woodwork came their manager, Neil, obviously worried about Sal’s sudden departure.

“What’s up, guys? Everything alright?”

Sal pushed past him, shoulder knocking the dark-skinned man to the side.

“Fucking peachy.”

Neil turned to Todd, taken back by Sal’s language and attitude. Todd told him about the t-shirt on the stage.

“Do you want me to get it and let him burn it in the parking lot?”

Todd took a step back in surprise, eyes wide and suppressed an uncomfortable laugh.

“What?”, Neil’s expression was serious.

“Neil—just…you’re a fantastic manager, but sometimes you really scare me.” The red head laughed.

“Hey, I’d do anything for you guys,” Neil winked at Todd, making his heart nearly stop.

Sal locked the door of the backstage bathroom and took off his mask. Sweat and tears soaked the interior. He looked down at it disgusted and got a paper towel to wipe it down. Setting his mask on the back of the sink, he splashed water on his face and examined the revolting face he saw staring back at him. His real eye looked about as lifeless as his false one. His wet bangs stuck to every crater on his face. Running his hand on the scars, the missing half of his jaw, sadness washed over him. He reached in his pocket and pulled out a pocketknife. Pulling up his black, long sleeve shirt, he determined his next scar would be. Sal knew he had a problem, but he lost everything, so what’s a little bit of blood?

Their van was packed with equipment and instruments. The Wretched weren’t big enough for an official tour bus, so they had to settle with a blank, white van. It didn’t really matter to them whether or not they had a big bus or anything. They were just glad to have something. Sal sat in the back of the van, headphones drowning out the sound of the other cars and Neil and Todd flirting. Since Luke introduced Neil to them as their manager, he was the only thing he ever thought about. Everything he did was to please or impress him. It was exhausting to watch.

Sal looked out the window. He wondered how many stories were unfolding as people just drove in the night. One driver sat close to their wheel, focused on the road. They were either tired or a new driver, and based on how terribly they drove, it could have been both. Another driver had their car packed full of housewares and clothes, and the driver looked like a college student. They were probably headed back to school from winter break. Christmas was a few weeks ago, and Sal dreaded being in the same city as Ash and Larry. That and summer were the only time of the year they returned to their hometown, and they usually stayed for a few days before they retreated to their life of luxury. Sal’s once favorite seasons of relaxation and vacation was ruined by his once favorite people. Now, when he thought about Christmas cookies and fruity popsicles, all he could taste was the bitter taste of betrayal and defeat.

“SAL!”, exclaimed Todd with his hands cupped around his mouth. The blue haired boy threw off his headphones violently, caught off guard.

“Salio, it’s dinner time!”, Neil said, sounding more like a dad than ever.

Sal fastened his mask and scooted out from his seat. The tall, dark-skinned man gave him a friendly pat on the back as Todd shut the door behind them. They were a little over halfway to their destination where Neil had a hotel room for them. Just the thought of a hotel room made Sal tired. Sleeping in a bed and not an uncomfortable van bench sounded heavenly. The diner they stopped in looked very retro. It reminded Sal of something that he couldn’t quite place a finger on.

When the waitress came to take their orders, she found it appropriate to ask if Sal needed a kids’ menu and compliment his “Halloween mask.” Neil corrected her underhandedly.

“Why would you give a grown man with a prosthetic face if he needs a kids menu?”

The waitress’s face went pale in an instant as she scampered to correct herself. Sal was so glad his mask hid his face or else everyone would see his face match the red on the booth seats. He looked down at his hands as Neil and Todd ordered. Just past his legs, he saw weird looking dust, and, once again, it reminded him of something that he couldn’t quite specify. After the show, Sal’s brain checked out. All he wanted was to be at the hotel and in a soft, warm bed. Before he noticed, the food was there in front of him. He unbuckled the bottom clasp of his mask.

“So, Salio, that song of yours has easily become a fan favorite. How’d you come up with it?”

Sal shoved French fries under his mask and into his mouth.

“I watched a video of two dead people and took a Lexapro.”

Neil glanced at Todd who gave him the motion to stop talking about it, and he breathed out a brief uncomfortable laugh.

“That’s—uh—interesting. You know what else is interesting? These hotdogs! I am going to eat more.”

Todd met his forehead in embarrassment at his crush’s awkward, monotone statement. Neil constantly tried so hard to be a fatherly figure to Sal while on the road. Sal never asked him to, but when Neil because their manager, he had a feeling that it was something the musician needed. He was not wrong. Without Neil's paternal tendencies, Sal would forget to eat, stay up all the time to avoid night terrors, and fall into an even darker state than when they first met. Their manager was really a blessing to the two boys.

Even with the strange hotdog diversion, nothing clicked in Todd or Sal’s mind. Since they’ve been on the road, they have dreaded going back to Nockfell. They knew the next time they went back that Ash and Larry would be there. All thoughts of those two were repressed for the sake of their sanity.

When they finished at the dinner, it was a straight shot to the hotel. Sal couldn’t wait, though, and passed out pressed against the cold van window. Neil and Todd bickered back and forth about if Neil should carry the blue haired sleeping beauty into the hotel.

“If you did that, he’ll wake up in a panic that we both know doesn’t end so well.”

“If I didn’t, you know it will take him forever for him to do back to sleep, and we have an interview tomorrow!”

Sal, woken up by their not-so-whispered quarreling, walked between them, luggage in hand.

“Let’s just get to the room, please.”

Neil and Todd grabbed their bags and gave Sal his keycard. He had a room all to himself this time as his clever manager made a few adjustments after what happened earlier that night. He knew Sal would want his privacy—an idea Sal used to fear. Loneliness became second nature to him as the years went on. After showering and cleaning his face and his real face, Sal prepared for a well-deserved slumber. Placing his fake eye into a container on the counter, he washed out the empty socket and the glass that fooled others into thinking he looked normal. Once he slipped on some long pajamas, refusing to acknowledge the fresh cuts, he went to close the curtains. Looking out at the parking lot, he saw the top of a large, black bus.

“God, I hope that isn’t a sports team or something.”

Preparing himself for a long night, Sal swallowed two sleeping pills, courtesy of Neil, and chased them with a cup of water. Staring at the popcorn ceiling as the television flashed images of old cartoons, Sal started to drift from consciousness. He must have started dreaming before he finally went completely asleep because he started imagining the voices of people in the hallway.


	6. "Fuck."

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Strange Neighbors and The Wretched get ready for a life changing interview session.

“I’m just saying that, technically, I don’t have to dress up for a radio show!”

“Larry, why do we always have this conversation every time you’re invited to a radio station?”

“Because Travy, no matter how many times we go, I will never see the reason for looking fancy with no one will see me.”

“We’ll see you.”, Maple chimed in, slipping her keycard into the door.

“You guys don’t count.”

As she entered the room, she flipped off Larry. He chuckled to himself then continued to plea with their manager for just an extra hour of sleep.

“You will be awake at 8, no negotiating.”, Travis said, closing his hotel door on the tall brunette’s face.

Down the hallway, Ash held open their hotel door open. She cocked her head towards the door, making Larry drag himself down the hallway. The moment he entered the room, he leapt onto the bed closest to the door, kicking off his shoes and sinking into the mattress.

“So, Ash...How about we break in the bed?” Larry pat the space next to him, lowering and raising his eyebrows.

Ash lifted a brow at him.

“Was that your invitation for sex?”

Larry nodded, mouth forming a sarcastic, goofy grin. A disinterested silence filled the room.

“Wait, are you being serious?"

“Fuck no, dude! I'd rather eat Travis's dirty ass clipboard before I'd fuck you!"

"Well, I'd rather flat iron my tongue until it looks like a piece of burned meat than have sex with you."

"I'd rather...uh...shit...okay you win this one. That was gross."

They both knew that neither of them wanted to sleep with each other, but that didn’t stop them from joking about it from time to time. They tried once, to no avail. Once the two were stripped down to just their undergarments, Ash got uncomfortable and Larry wasn’t feeling it either. Making out was practically forced every show to reinforce “Lash” as fanservice, but they would never willingly be intimate. They were like brother and sister. It already felt wrong enough being forced into intimacy.

Ash threw off her shirt and opened her suitcase to find her big t-shirt to sleep in. After searching for the garment a while, she remembered laying it on the master bed in the tour bus. Larry heard her curse under her breath and asked what it was for.

“Left my night shirt in the bus. I really don’t want to sleep in that sweaty show shirt, but I also don’t want to sleep shirtless. Like—what if the building caught on fire?”

“That’s what you think about?”

“Hey, it’s a valid thought to have!”

“Here,” Larry looked through his bag and tossed her an old beige shirt, “Wear this if you want to.”

He never wore a shirt when sleeping, just a part of pajama pants his mom sent him prior to the tour, so he didn’t really need it. She caught it and slipped it on, thanking Larry. The shirt barely covered her from the waist down. If they weren’t so close, she would have probably slept in her jeans to cover herself up more. Seeing Ash in his shirt made him think of Sal. Sometimes when Sal had nightmares, he would go all the way down to the basement for comfort. His shirt would be soaked in tears, so Larry would give him one of his shirts. It seemed to calm him down immediately. When he would see Sal in his shirt, he struggled to hold himself back. It was weird to see someone in his shirt and have no desire to rip it off of them.

“Stop looking at me like that.”, Ash said, disgusted by Larry’s gaze.

“Like what?”

“Like you’re expecting me to do something.”

“Trust me, I am _not_ looking at you like that.”

“Mhm—sure. Just go to sleep. It’s already late, and you heard the tyrant; we’re up early tomorrow morning.”

Larry rolled his eyes and trudged to turn the lights off as Ash closed the curtains. She looked out to the parking lot, seeing a weird vehicle in the parking lot. She motioned Larry to look at it.

“What sad souls do you think came in that?”

Larry softly laughed, “Dude, I think that’s a church van.”

With a swift tug, Ash closed the curtains, and the two slammed into their separate beds. Both bands slept just rooms apart from each other that night. Before the end of the next day, the peace in the hotel would disappear.

Yawning as he stretched, black coffee in hand, Larry lazily climbed the steps into the bus. He and Ash were woken up to the sound of Chug’s knocks and bringing them each a plate of food he got them from the breakfast bar in the lobby. Larry leaned on the doorframe, passing the plates to the groggy girl behind him, and requested a black coffee from the green haired assistant. Chug gave a quick nod before turning on his heels to excuse himself. Then he paused. Was that Ash in Larry’s t-shirt?

“Huh, maybe they really do love each other!”, he thought.

The radio station didn’t need them there until noon, but Travis insisted they got there early, saying that it gives them time to relax and not be so rushed. The rest of the band thought he was stupid and would have rather stayed in bed for another hour or so. When they loaded the bus at around 10:30AM, Larry looked out the side window at the van that he and Ash pointed out the night prior night. It seemed to have some amps and instruments in it. He specifically wondered why a church group would need a drum set and what looked like the neck of an electric guitar.

“Hey,” he called to his bandmates, not turning around, “Anyone here religious?”

“That’s a little out of left field even for you.”, Maple said, separating Ash’s shoulder length hair into two sections to braid.

“Just wondering. Do some religions—like—do music stuff? Like with drums and stuff?”

Travis pinched the bridge of his nose with his fingers, “You do know that music is universal, right? Music existed before you.”

Larry turned around, closing the blinds.

“Sure, but it got a hell of a lot better when I got here.”

He slouched down in the couch, hands behind his head, legs spread in relaxation—his signature douchey position. The drive to the radio station consisted of Travis telling Ash and Larry their “lines” for the radio show. At this point, almost everything the two said for publicity was written for them. Of course, Larry would always go off script, leaving Ash to try to make something up on the spot. If they only knew who would be at the station, they would have rewritten the whole script.

“Sally?”, Neil called through the door.

Sal sat up and held his head briefly. He never took sleeping pills because of how hard it was to wake up later, but he just wanted to slip away last night. Clicking the buckles on his mask, he fastened his prosthetic to his face before opening the door. Neil stood there, smile on his face and coffee in his hands.

“What’s this?”

“Coffee—made just the way you like it!”

Sal took the warm coffee. It was a nice contrast to his cold hands. After thanking Neil, he asked what the schedule for the day was like.

“Well, Salio, at 12, we need to be at the radio station for Miami Maniacs, and after that you and Todd have some free time before going to the venue. Todd and I were thinking exploring the town a bit, but if that isn’t your speed, we can all hang out in the hotel and watch a movie or something.”

Third wheeling for Neil and Todd wasn’t on the top of Sal’s bucket list, but it beat sitting in silence like some psycho. Neil noticed Sal’s eyes cut down to his drink and took it as a sign of disapproval. The perky manager scampered his brain to think of more things to do.

“We could find a music shop or go to the beach or something! Although it may be too cold and you may get sand everywhere which would be hell to get out of the van—”

“Neil,” Sal interrupted, “I’m fine. I’ll get an Uber back here while you guys go and explore.”

“Are you sure, man?”

Sal nodded.

“If you change your mind, tell me or Todd, okay?”

Sal nodded again.

“Oh, and be ready and downstairs at around 10:30-11, bright, shiny, and ready for the day!”

“Can’t promise that other stuff, but I’ll be there.”

Neil turned around to return to his and Todd’s room.

Sal unbuckled his mask and set it on the TV stand. Neil’s coffee was always the most delicious. Before he became a manager for Red-Eye, he worked in a café as a baker and barista. Needless to say, Todd and Sal hit the jackpot for great managers. Sal took a long sip of the warm liquid, making sure it didn’t pour out of the gap in his face. He always had to take extra precaution to not make a complete mess. While getting ready, he heard muffled voices flooding the hallway. The voices seemed so familiar, but Sal figured it he was still waking up or that it was just a television in another room. No one would complain that much about being awake before 9, right?

Sal grabbed his signature black, long sleeve shirt and a pair of ripped red dreams from his suitcase. Talking off his night clothes, he was reminded of each time he had ever felt weak. Scabs and scars lined his arms. Even after his shower, old blood from the night before had crusted on his skin around his fresh wounds. Sal pulled a box of large band-aids out from his bag and tried to cover them as much as he could, not to aid in the healing process. He knew that having clothes stick to scabbing cuts irritated him whenever the scab would get ripped apart from the fabric moving. From experience, if that happened before or during an interview, it would throw him completely off track and send him spiraling.

After getting dressed, Sal moved to the bathroom to fix his hair. Blue jagged locks fell a little above his shoulders with choppy bangs that looked like they were cut in the dark. Sal bunched his hair into two sections, securing them with an elastic for his iconic pigtails. After studying himself in the mirror for a while, something in him said to ditch the pigtails. He complied with his intuition and took his hair down, shaking it out. Now he looked like he was a real rockstar with his messy hair somehow framing his face perfectly. Putting in the glass blue eye and slipping on his black combat boots, he checked himself in the mirror for the final piece, his mask. Two loud clicks rang in the bathroom. Sal studied his look longer than usual. He felt like something was missing. He texted Todd.

“Hey, do you know if Neil has any show stuff with him?”

“I don’t know, but I bet he could got get them. Why? What do you need?”

Sal felt his face go red.

“Remember when Neil tried giving us those chains to make us look ‘more edgy’?”

“Say no more!”

Within minutes, his manager stood at Sal’s door with a box that read “stage accessories”. Sal commented on his incredible time. Smiling, Neil placed the box in his hands.

“I’m just so glad that you are finally using these! I knew you’d come around!”

That’s why Sal texted Todd instead of Neil. He knew the man would make a big deal out of it.

“I may not even use any on this,” Sal dismissed, “Just wanted to try something new, y’know?”

Neil left Sal to continue getting ready. The box was full of silver accessories—rings, necklaces, belt chains, etc. Sal poured it out on the bed, examining the pieces and picking out each one he liked. On his callused, bruised hands, he placed a large skull on his left pointer finger and a thick band with what looked like a rose surrounded by thorns on his ring finger, and on the other hand, he had a simple, shiny band. He decided to put a chain on his left hip and hooked it on two belt loops. Starting to get more confident with each piece of jewelry, he dangled a collection of unique chain necklaces on his neck. Some of them were thick and gaudy, hanging lower, while others had locks and skulls. Looking in the mirror a final time, Sal impressed himself. He looked like and felt like kicking ass, and he would need it.

At 11 o’clock on the dot, Sal met Neil and Todd in the lobby. They were blown away by Sal’s new look.

“Wow, no pigtails AND chains? Who are you and what did you do to the old Sal?”, Todd joked, kind of jealous that his friend could pull off such a conglomeration of accessories.

Sal, hands in his pockets, lifted his shoulders nonchalantly. He asked himself that same question. The old Sal was dead and gone. Only a miracle would be able to bring him back.

The three hopped into the van, ready for the interview. While driving, Neil struck up a conversation with Todd.

“You will not believe what I saw this morning. It was nuts!”

Todd looked up from his phone interested.

“There was this guy with _insanely_ long hair in the parking lot when I was getting the necklaces for Sal. Like—he looked like he had been growing it out for years! It was probably to about his mid back. Not gonna lie, I thought he was a woman until I heard him call out to some blonde guy across the lot.”

Todd snickered at Neil’s story, “That’s what you consider ‘nuts’?”

“Yeah,” Sal chimed in from behind them, “you’ve seen dudes with longer hair than that before. I mean you’ve seen the acts we’ve opened for in the past. Their hair was insane.”

“Right? ,” Todd added, “You’ve definitely seen much longer hair.”

“MUCH longer, Neil.”

“C’mon, Neil.”

“How could you forget that, Neil?”

Todd and Sal knew exactly what they were doing.

“GEEZ, I DIDN’T THINK Y’ALL WOULD GET SO HEATED OVER HAIR!”

Neil’s comedic outburst sent Todd and Sal into a flurry of laughter. One thing those two never tired of was making Neil so annoyed that his southern accent come out. As much as Larry loved to annoy Travis, Todd and Sal tag teamed being little shits to their manager, but unlike the devious brunette, they did it out of love—Todd more than Sal.

Pulling up to the parking lot, the radio station instructed Travis on where the bus driver should park their tour bus to not block the parking spaces or cause a mob. There was an open lot behind the building big enough to hide it. If the Strange Neighbors tour bus was spotted by fans, it would take less than an hour for a swarm of them to flock to the station. Travis repeated the instructions verbatim to the bus driver after the band members exited. Larry squinted as he stepped into the sun. His head throbbed as the light hit his eyes, and with a swift flick down, a pair of expensive sunglasses covered them. He gave a smirk to himself as he tucked his hands into his pockets. Ash, who saw the whole thing, looked at him unamused.

“Why are you so….you?”

“Because, love,” he eyed her through his shades, “it’s what I do best!”

He shot her a quick wink, accompanied with a click of his tongue, and flopped his arm over her shoulders. As much as she wanted to push him off her, people were watching. Besides, this interview needed to dismiss all rumors of their relationship being fake. They needed to make it look as real as possible. Entering the building, the two really turned it on and cranked it up.

The trio parked their van next to the building. This radio station was bigger than any station they’d ever been to. Huge, red jagged words decorated the side with “106.7 Miami Maniac”. Todd swallowed hard as Sal dug his nails into his hands. Before this, they never got nervous before radio interviews, especially. The less people could stare at him the better. Now, the two felt their stomachs drop with fear. Messing up this radio interview would make The Wretched look like fools, possibly ruining their developing reputation. Neil came between the two nervous boys and embraced them in support.

“You got this, guys! There’s nothing to worry about!”

God, if only that were the truth.

Upon entering the building, an intern showed the trio to the waiting room. Live feed from the station played over the speakers. “Singular” by Sanity’s Falls. Classic. Sal’s nerves began to ease listening to the music, and he crossed his arms over his chest and laid his head back. Apparently, the sleeping pills had not quite worn off yet. Todd asked the intern where the rest room was and she informed him that it was down the hall to the left, near the room the interview would take place. Thanking her, he excused himself.

The hallway was lined with windows exposing other smaller stations that were held in the building. As he made his merry way, brown, long hair and a purple shirt briefly caught his eye. He stopped in his tracks and walked backwards and peered in the window. The radio host shook the hands of Larry Johnson and Ash Campbell as they sat putting on headphones. Todd dropped to the floor immediately, avoiding being seen.

“Fuck.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Good luck with the next two chapters, by the way. When I wrote them, I remember laughing like a Scooby-Doo villain at some of the shit throwing the two do with each other.


	7. Tired of Running

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Larry and Ash bring it their all while on 106.7 Miami Maniacs, unaware of who is listening to them a few doors down.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yikes size: XXL

He crouch-ran down the hallway to Neil and Sal. Slinging the door open, he silently motioned Neil over. He approached the red head concerned.

“What’s wrong? Did something go wrong in the bathroom? Break anything? Do I need to hurt someone?”

Getting emotional whiplash from the question, Todd shook his head bewildered.

“No—what? ,” Todd lowered his voice to barely above a whisper, “Neil. Strange Neighbors— _Larry and Ash_ —are here. Same studio and everything.”

Neil’s face dropped.

“Oh no… what do we do?”

“I don’t know, but I know the moment they see us—see _Sal_ —it will be World War III.”

“How about I crush some sleeping pills into Sal’s tea or something, and you can do the interview alone?”

“Drugging Sal with sleeping pills? That sounds stupid.”

“Hey! Worth a shot.”

For a moment, Todd considered it but then shook his head in disapproval. What if Sal couldn’t do the gig later because he was knocked out? Also, that would be hard to explain once he woke up. They decided to ask an intern to turn off the speakers in the waiting room, lying that “it breaks their concentration”. Neil was never the best liar. She pointed out a dial on the wall that controlled the room’s volume. Todd swiftly turned it to zero. The sudden silence woke Sal up. He opened his eyes to Todd twiddling his thumbs vigorously and Neil just sitting there. His expression looked like he was about to either explode or worry himself to death.

“Why did the music stop?”, Sal yawned.

The two laughed suspiciously.

“My ears hurt?”, Neil’s voice made it obvious that he was lying.

“Dude, look I know you aren’t the biggest fan on Sanity Falls,” Sal approached what looked like a volume dial, “but you don’t need to make the entire room quiet—”

As Sal turned the knob, Strange Neighbor’s segment began.

Ash and Larry sat across the host, little to no space between them, and waited for their cue. The room was a lot more homey than other studios. Instead of a desk, they got a couch with mic stands angled towards them. The host sat angled towards the talent under the hallway window and dawned a large, comfortable chair, soundboard next to him ready to go. The rest of the band sat in a remote room, listening and observing the two through a darkened window behind the host.

“Hello, Ash,” said the bearded man giving each a set of headphones, “and Hello Larry! I am Charlie!”

They shook hands as the musicians slipped the headphones on their necks. A thud was heard outside the hallway window. They paused for a second before continuing, thinking it was probably a door shutting.

“Alright, so I assume you two have been on the radio before?”

The two nodded.

“Good, so you two should know radio etiquette. Remember, if any question makes you uncomfortable, just say the word and I’ll skip it.”

Larry shot him a finger gun as Ash nodded in compliance.

“Before we air, I just want to say—Larry, my man, you fucking killed it at Ground Sound last summer! Like, when you climbed the light stands, it was so goddamn mental!”

Larry did a handshake chest bump combo with the hefty man in acceptance. Ash looked around the room, feeling like chopped liver. When he sat back down, Larry acknowledged her expression and rolled his eyes. He really didn’t like to share praise sometimes.

“I mean, I’d have nothing to be mental to if it wasn’t for this girl.” Larry wrapped his arm around her and pulled her in tightly. She scrunched her nose at him with a small smile paint her face as if the action was more cute than annoying.

“Aw, just look at you two! If the fans could see you right now, all of those rumors would disappear in seconds!”

God, did they hope that would happen. As they put their headphones on, Charlie began his usual intro.

“Hello, Miami Maniacs, that was Sanity’s Fall with Singular. An oldie but always a banger! Today I am with lead singers of everyone’s favorite modern metal band, Strange Neighbors, Larry Johnson and Ash Campbell. It’s great to have you here.”

Larry leaned into the mic with a grin, “Great to be here, Charlie.”

“Yeah, this is our favorite station to listen to when we’re in the area!”, Ash recited her line.

“You heard it here, maniacs, 106.7 is Strange Neighbors approved!”, Charlie triumphantly said, earning a small laugh from the duo.

“We aren’t here to talk about us, though,” the host continued, “we’re here to talk about you two. So, what have you guys been up to? It seems like the only like Twitter talks about nowadays are you two!”

Larry chuckled lightly, “As it should be.”

The fans loved his cocky ass, so Kenny made sure to give them premium material when writing their script.

“Well, Charlie, we have been touring the US for the past…three—four months,” Ash looked at Larry for validation. He confirmed with a nod, a smile of admiration painting his face when she looked away. When Ash attempted to continue her comment, Charlie interrupted her.

“Sorry, Ash, but the look Larry just gave you was absolutely heartwarming!”

Hearing a big, burly man gush over two young adults was unusual, but the two brushed it off. Maybe that was his character? They didn’t know—they had never listened to his station before.

“What would you expect, Char? I’m crazy about this bitch.”

Ash slapped his arm, and they played it off like a charming “love tap” as Kenny called it.

“Speaking of which, Larry,” Charlie’s eyes narrowed on the enchanting brunette, “it seems like someone is crazy about you.”

There it was. The beginning of the end.

“Who isn’t?”, he smirked.

“True, but this rising star wrote a whole song about you.”

Larry abandoned his once relaxed position to sit straight up.

“A song was written about me? That’s new, not a surprise, though.”

“The Wretched released their newest song, ‘Treehouse’, just days after the video of the concert confrontation took the internet by storm. Considering the videos and pictures the band displayed before in their concerts, it seems like a lot of the lyrics talk about you and their lead guitarist, Sally Face, being more than friends.”

Behind the darkened mirror, the rest of Strange Neighbors cringed. Travis threw his hands on his head in dismay and turned around, unable to watch the scene unfold in front of him. Maple silently prayed that they could pick things back up, squeezing Chug’s hand.

“What are your thoughts, or have you not heard the song?”

Larry swallowed hard, “Uh—I’ve heard it.”

He looked around the room, trying to find his words. Ash tried to save the conversation by butting in and talking about how the question wasn’t really relevant to Strange Neighbor. With a finger, Larry told her he did have something to say about the song.

“Charlie, I think that little ole Sally has been living in his own fictional world for way too long, so to make his life just a shred interesting, he writes a song full of what he wished happened. Trust me, if anything in that song was true, I would’ve written about it before he did.”

Travis whipped his head back around, eyebrows lifted impressed. He wondered if he told Larry to say that, but then, he realized that Larry went off script.

The host continued to pry, “After the release of ‘Treehouse’, rumors about if you and Ash really love each other. Outside sources have said that the two of you aren’t as ‘lovey-dovey’ backstage as you are on stage. Why do you think they’d say that?”

“Well,” Ash jumped to answer, “I think that people don’t really understand our relationship.”

She glanced over to Larry who audibly agreed.

“Ash and I are what people like to call…voyeuristic. When all eyes are on us, that’s the biggest turn on.”

Crimson washed over Ash’s face as Larry said something so vulgar so confidently. It was a good excuse, but it didn’t mean Ash liked it.

“Ah—so at those who are theorizing whether you are gay or bi, what do you have to say about that?”

Larry, taking control of the situation, crossed his left foot over his right knee, extending an arm over the blushing girl next to him.

“I would tell them…,” Larry paused in contemplation then seductively, threw gritted teeth, replied, “Who gives a shit? I’m a motherfucking god. I can get fuck _anyone_ I damn. Well. Please.”

Even Ash looked surprised at his response. The room the band sat in was quiet in awe. No one really expected him to get that fired up. He’s gotten questions about his sexuality before because of his flirty nature, but he never responded so aggressively. Admittingly, Travis thought he felt his heart skip a beat—the whole room felt that. This was the reason why Larry’s the fan favorite.

“Well said, Larry. Very well said. Now that the drama is out of the way, let’s talk Ground Sound. I’m sure you guys have seen the lineup. Do you think Strange Neighbors will take the win for a second year in a row?”

Relieved the conversation has shirted, Ash breathed a sigh of relief.

“The competition this year is really stiff, but with his amazing voice and,” Ash pointed over to her partner.

“—and her sick guitar licks—“, Larry pointed back at her.

“—and the rest of our incredible band,” Ash said, causing Phillip to briefly look up from his phone and pump a fist in the air, “I think we have nothing to worry about. Plus, Larry and I been writing a brand new song exclusive to the occasion!”

They continued to talk about upcoming albums and tours, and Larry informed the listeners of their remaining tour dates that haven’t sold out yet. Near the end of the interview, Charlie faded in Strange Neighbors’ “Basement Blasphemy”, one of their best-selling songs, and thanked the two for being on the show.

“Sorry about the whole The Wretched thing. Listeners flooded our website BEGGING us to talk about it.”

Larry shrugged, hands in his pockets, “I get it. Give the fans what they want, right?

Charlie shook the duo’s hands and began to set up for the next interview. Larry joked to his silent bandmate as they turned to leave. Ash failed to find her words. The interview was more stressful than she thought it would be. Her chest felt tight as they e walked out the studio, but Larry put a hand on her shoulder.

“Dude—babe,” he corrected, “that went great! Did you see the look on his face when I got all dark and mysterious? I swear the audience must have been soaked! Nothing can touch us, baby!”

He spoke way too soon.

“Hello, Miami Maniacs, that was Sanity’s Fall with ‘Singular’. An oldie but always a banger!”

The speaker in the waiting room murmured as Sal turned the dial. With the introduction of Ash and Larry, the masked musician stared at the floor, hand frozen on the knob. Todd and Neil could help but observe the scene before them. They couldn’t look away.

“It’s like watching a child be reminded that their favorite cartoon ended,” Neil whispered.

“No… it’s more like watching a child get hit by a freight train.”, Todd muttered, standing to soothe his bandmate.

Neil winced at Todd imagery but joined him. He rubbed Sal’s back gently, telling him that they could ditch the interview and go get something to eat. Todd assured Sal that just because Strange Neighbors are there, it doesn’t mean they’ll run into each other. With a violent jerk, Sal threw Neil’s hand off him, making him and Todd step back.

“I’m not a baby to coddle. Just let me listen.”

Sal continued to stand there in disbelief. For so long Sal dodged anything involving Ash and Larry. When they would appear on his timeline, he would dismiss the post or turn his phone off all together. Now he stood in the same building as them, only two doors separating them. His heart dropped to his feet. Sal was ripped from his thoughts when the host mentioned The Wretched.

“Wait, what the hell?”, Todd shot Neil a look before he and Sal locked eyes.

The host continued, “…it seems like a lot of the lyrics talk about you and their lead guitarist, Sally Face, being more than friends.”

The only word the trio could think of was “ _shit_.” Sal and Todd expected a response from Larry about Treehouse, but not when they were so close to each other and able to see their faces after said response. All eyes in the waiting room expanded to the size of dinner plates. Sal stumbled back to the couch where he once slept peacefully, listening to his favorite band. He sat and digested the conversation pooling from the speakers.

“Charlie, I think that little ole Sally has been living in his own fictional world for way too long, so to make his life just a shred more interesting, he writes a song full of what he wished happened...”

Larry’s words burned Sal’s mind. A tear dripped from his eye, hidden by his mask. How could Larry spit such vitriol with silk lining his voice? His confidence made it sound like facts. The way each sentence oozed with sweet venom almost convinced Sal that his song was built on lies. Sal twisted the ring on his pinky finger to resist the urge to run into the restroom and add to his gory collection.

The slick singer’s comments on his relationship with his girlfriend nauseated Sal. Memories of a time before Strange Neighbors’ success flooded his mind. Late-night snack runs while writing music, smoke sessions resulting in extreme song ideas, and day-long band practices choked him up. Ash, Larry, and Sal would joke and laugh while splattering paint everywhere for possible album art—saying “Great art doesn't need to be beautiful, as long as it conveys genuine emotion.” They felt the shit out of it, they really did. Now the only feeling left was brokenness. Sal whimpered silently, trying to suppress his rampant emotions. Then, a growl came through the speakers.

“Who gives a shit? I’m a motherfucking _god_. I can get fuck _anyone_ I damn. Well. Please.”

As much as he hated it, the captivating proclamation sent a shiver down Sal’s spine. Neil’s eyebrows shot up as he looked to Todd.

“Even I felt that hit,” he explained then looked to the muted boy on the couch, “Sal, we can leave right now. Say the word, and we’ll leave.”

A chill settled in the room as if they were the jury eagerly awaiting the verdict. They sat in limbo for the rest of Strange Neighbors interview. Not a single noise uttered, only the speakers filled the void. As the host signed off, Sal stood upright. Neil took the van keys out of his pocket, but Sal shook his head.

“I’m tired of running”, he declared timidly. 

The power in his voice resembled that of when he sings Treehouse. Seeing that Sal appeared capable to go forward, Todd’s confidence grew as well. He marched towards this bandmate, and they clinched each other’s hand in agreement.

“Hell yeah!”

An assistant came into the waiting room to usher the boys into the studio. Entering the narrow hallway, a tall, tan, long haired brunette stood with an arm around a dazed girl in a purple top. The blue haired, mask boy and his red-haired counterpart beheld the couple in disbelief, almost forgetting that it was true that they were in the building. Then, the two sets of musicians caught each other’s eyes. Blue eyes locked with dark brown. Green eyes locked with black. There it was. With the reconnection of the four, thus commenced _World War III_.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> fUcK


	8. Reunion or War?

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Three years of tears and pain have led to this moment.

The groups ogled at the other. After three years of no connection whatsoever, the party of past friends recognized the changed the other made. Stillness caused time to come to a lull. All they could do was stand in utter shock and bewilderment. Phillip, standing near the back of the group, tilted towards Maple and privately asked why everything was so quiet. She took a deep breath in before responding.

“It’s a reunion.”

Larry slowly unarmed Ash and took a step towards the masked boy across from him. Sal stepped forward as well.

“Hey there, frightingale,” Larry sarcastically said, poison tainting each syllable, “that was quite the song you made. Y’know, it got me thinking—why spend all this money on mansions when living in your mind is rent free?”

Sal stayed quiet, examining the face of the man he once loved. Those witnessing the confrontation held their breath.

“Aw, what is it,” Larry bent down, closing the height gap between him and his opponent, “aren’t you happy to see me?”

The smirk painting his face was devilish. He waited for Sal to do something, anything, but he just remained silent. Larry rolled his eyes as he stood upright with a scoff.

“God, Sally Face, you really are no fun.”

He stepped aside to walk past Sal but was stopped by a cold, pale hand placed in the center of his chest, pushing him back. Larry was taken back by the action—his expression aghast. The hand rested in its position near the collar of his shirt.

“Sally, if you wanted to touch me, you could’ve just said so—”

With a firm grip, twist, and yank, Sal pulled the silver-tongued man to his masked face. The two were eye to eye and tension soon filled the air. Their faces hung there, breathing hitched and hostile.

“Now, what? You gonna hurt me?”, Larry softly taunted, brown eyes focused on the real blue eye.

“I thought about it,” Sal confessed lightly, “but I think I already have.”

Larry knew in the back of his mind that Sal was right. He was hurt. When told to choose between the one he loved and the thing that helped him cope with his everchanging life, he made his decision, and it left both of them more broken than they were. The thought of the conversation brought memories of life before the rivalry to swamp Larry’s mind. Being reminded of the decent life he had before he decided to do what he thought would make him happy hurt like hell, but he couldn’t let Sal have the honor of knowing that.

“Oh, have you? Because last I checked, I’m,” Larry lazily pressed a finger on one nostril, quickly sniffed in, and let the finger flick downwards, “feeling great.”

Two sets of eyes narrowed in bitterness. Sal, infuriated by the reminder of the past dissent, raised his fist, preparing to collide his studded fingers into Larry’s beautiful, stupid face. His knuckle was pale from how hard he clinched it. The feeling of his fist breaking Larry’s seemingly perfect face would be satisfaction enough for Sal. One thing Larry never expected was Sal to actually try anything. This was not the Sal Fisher from Nockfell that he grew up with. His kind, loyal self crumbled, and he became was a betrayed, withdrawn husk of the person he once was. Sal’s new disposition jarred yet intrigued Larry. He wanted to see how far he could push his new limits.

Before contact was made, Neil grabbed the elevated arm and motioned for Todd to help him out with a tilt of the head. They were then broken up by each of their respective partners. Todd took Sal’s hand off Larry’s shirt, causing the taller boy to stumble back. Once he was back, Ash stood between the two, giving them a barrier. Then, she tried reasoning with them.

“Okay, look, I know that it’s been pretty shit between us, but keep in mind that right now, we are not only in public but representing our labels. So, grow the fuck up—both of you!”

Todd reluctantly joined his once friend and tutoring buddy, “How about, for the time being, both of you pretend the other isn’t within murdering distance.”

“That won’t be hard.”

Larry’s snarky comment earned a stern look from Ash, and he rolled his eyes in response. The two bands slipped past, the four leads scowling at each other as they passed. Three years of lies, tears, and anger built up to that moment. If only they weren’t at a radio station, Sal would have punched Larry as many times as it took to get the pain out of his heart, and Larry would lie down and take each blow. He’d feel like he deserved it, but the feeling wouldn’t last long.

When Todd and Sal finally reached the studio, the station was finishing yet another one of Strange Neighbors’ song. Charlie explained how the segment would be going and left to get the boys a bottle of water. The two sat their in silent agony as the song finished up. Sal’s tears filled his mask, and Todd sat almost motionless until the song concluded. Once Charlie entered, giving them the water bottles, it was time to start. Taking a deep breath, they moved towards the mics.

The beginning of the interview consisted of questions about the band itself, what’s under Sal’s mask (which the two politely refused to answer), and eventually about their rivals.

“So, many fans have asked about your relation to lead singers of Strange Neighbors. Can you elaborate on it.”

“Uh,” Todd awkwardly laughed into the mic, “I thought this interview was to talk about The Wretched.”

“It is! I’m just asking so the fans know your sides to the story. We just got Larry’s side—”

“Yeah, we heard.”, Sal interrupted, deadpanned.

“Don’t you think fans of The Wretched deserve an answer?”

Todd was prepared to dismiss the question when Sal leaned in with same venom that dripped of Larry’s tongue.

“First, once liars, always liars. You can choose to believe me and my honest lyrics, or you can decide to trust people who have to cover up one lie after the other.”

Charlie and Todd remained quiet.

“Second, Larry and Ash,” the feeling of their names on Sal’s tongue felt foreign, “say that they’re writing a song for Ground Sound, when it’s actually a team of writers feeding it to them. Even before they got signed, I made sure their lyrics weren’t shit.”

Neil’s eyes nearly popped out of his head for hearing the slander coming from the usually mild Sal.

“If you don’t believe me, compare The Wretched’s first album to their first one then their most recent. The writing completely changed once they got signed. They dumbed it down and made it generic whereas their early lyrics, the ones I helped come up with, were coarse and specific. Also, notice how none of the songs on ‘Apartment 402’ sung by the lead jackass mention a girl while talking about love. It’s almost like…he wasn’t in love with one.”

Maybe he was getting too confident. Touching Sal’s shoulder, Todd indicated that he needed to calm down, but Sal continued. Even the fabric on his body got hot with his anger.

“Finally, speaking of that guy, Larry calls himself a ‘god’, but I don’t think gods need special dust to be almighty. All he is is a selfish, backstabbing asshole with a god complex as obnoxious as his personality.”

And with that, Sal slouched back, leaving everyone in the room and all of the listeners in awe. Charlie informed his audience of The Wretched’s remaining tour dates before timidly asking about how they feel about Ground Sound coming up in a few months. Todd couldn’t articulate words. He was still in shock from what his bandmate said.

Sal, still on fire from his rant, gritted his teeth as he maliciously muttered into his mic.

“We’re kicking some ass…or should I say ‘ _Lash_ ’?”

Charlie introduced Treehouse before signing off. He shook hands with the two before seeing them out. Upon entering the waiting room to leave the way they came, an indignant couple sat on the couch, waiting for them. Neil maneuvered around Todd and Sal to put space between them all. Larry pushed himself up with vigor, while Ash followed him. He walked directly to Sal who was being guarded by his manager. Larry cut his eyes to Neil then around to Sal.

“I see you still need others to stand up for you.”

Sal scoffed, “You obviously heard what I said, so don’t keep lying to yourself.”

Larry rolled his eyes with a light, disgusted laugh. Getting as close to Sal as he could, he spoke more poison into the air.

“How about we see who the _real_ liar is downstairs in the parking lot?”

Neil gave a quick nervous look to Todd before Sal stepped forward to get closer to his opponent. This was not the best position for Neil.

“Be. My. Guest.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I know the chapter's short, but I'm starting to feel sorry for this radio station. Like, imagine inviting these two bands to hold interviews, and all the sudden they are dicks to each other in the middle of the hallway. I can just see a small, quiet intern getting so pissed at them that they just scream to stop clogging the hallway. They have COFFEES TO DELIVER. THERE IS NO TIME FOR YOUR CONFRONTATION LACED WITH SEXUAL TENSION.


	9. Though He Be But Little, He is Fierce

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sal releases years of pent up anger, and Larry is not one to shy away from a fight.

The rest of the band was waiting outside. Phillip sat on the sidewalk near the front of the building, still playing his game. Maple and Chug stood discussing possible places to go to lunch. Travis marked furiously on the schedule held on the clipboard. After Larry and Ash decided to stay to hear the interview, he stormed out of the station, complaining about the schedule. What made the least sense was the fact the band was technically on their free days. Hearing the sound of the door swinging open, they all whipped their heads around, only to see Sal push Larry out of the door.

“Fuck you!”, the blue haired boy screamed.

Neil, Todd, and Ash moved around them to the others, telling them to back up just in case. Larry stumbled but quickly regained balance.

“What the FUCK was that?”, Larry extended his arm up to the studio’s window.

“You leave for three years, even after saying you would come back, start dating Ash, even though you told me we shouldn’t date in fear of what they,” Sal motioned to Ash and Todd watching on the sidelines, “would say, and, to top it off, you call me a liar on live radio! THAT’S what that was.”

“Aw, look at you! You finally grew a pair!”

“Shut the fuck up, Larry.”

The sound of his name coming from Sal slightly startled him. He had never heard him say his name with such acidity. It was almost attractive. Now was not the time to think about that.

“Or what? You gonna bite my ankles, Scary Face?”

Unable to contain his rage, Sal clinched his fist and jabbed it into Larry’s stomach. Once doubled over, he grabbed a handful of his long, brown locks, yanking it back. Stumbling, the taller man caught himself by kneeling down. Larry’s eyes forcibly locked with Sal’s.

“Is that _really_ the best insult you have? You’d think after three years you’d become a shred more original.”

Larry smirked, enjoying seeing his ex being so intense, “You’d think after three years life would give you a few extra inches…unless they went somewhere else.”

“Wouldn’t you like to know.”

“Oh yes, I _would_.”

Sal tightened the grip on Larry’s hair before lying a single punch on his face. He hoped the skull ring would leave a print on the inflicted area. Ash and Todd pried Sal away from Larry. The pavement had speckles of crimson spotting it under the injured musician. He laughed as he regained his stance. Blood dripped from his nose down his chin.

“Oh my god!”, Ash gasped, releasing Sal to pull her hands to her mouth in shock.

She ran back into the radio station to get something to plug his nose. Todd held Sal’s arm to prevent him from hurting the other anymore.

“Guys,” he tried reasoning, “just relax.”

“Oh yeah because saying that always solves everything.”, the brunette snapped.

Sal jerked himself away from the red-head, and before Todd could regain control of him, he already made his way back to his adversary.

“I break your heart, so you try and break my nose?”, Larry mocked.

Sal reared back to land another punch only to be caught by the collar and pulled up onto his tiptoes. Larry brought the smaller boy up to his level, evening the playing field and deviously whispered.

“Well, maybe next time, you’ll learn how to throw a real punch.”

Throwing Sal down, he wiped his bloody nose with his bare arm. Ash ran up to him, napkins in hand, and assured he was okay. Seeing Sal on the ground, she instinctively went to help him up, but he merely scowled at her hand and slapped it out of the way.

“What is your problem?”, she yelled.

“You two! You two are my problem!”, he explained, standing angles at the girl, “You get signed and then all the sudden don’t talk to anyone in Nockfell and then start fucking on stage?”

“That’s a great idea, Sally Face.” Larry teased.

“Don’t fucking talk to me, Johnson. I will wipe that shit-eating grin off your goddamn face!”

Everyone watched as the scene played out. Closure came in the form of chaos.

“Why did you do it?”, Sal asked eyes bouncing between the two, “Why did you lie to me—lie to everyone? Is Nockfell really that bad that you felt like we should just become worthless to you?”

A hush fell over the three.

“Well? Tell me!”

Larry rolled his eyes.

“You’re so dramatic, Sal.”

“I’m not being dramatic. I’m being honest which is something I guess you two don't know anything about now!”

Taking a deep breath, Ash decided to chime in.

“Sal. We didn’t mean to. It’s just…the music industry is so…controlled? I don’t know. I never intended on anything to go this far.”

Wanting to believe her, Sal grew quiet, looking to the pavement.

“I meant to.”

Sal picked his head up to meet Larry’s as he spoke.

“If we would’ve gone back to Nockfell, we wouldn’t be the people we are today.”

“You’re an asshole—”

“—and you stayed in Nockfell, and what are you? A saint?”

“I never said that!”

“Do you think you’re better than me just because you stayed in a shitty town with even shittier people?”

“I never said that—”

“News flash, Sal, life’s a bitch. We don’t get what we wanted. Sometimes people change. _Sometimes_ being away from people makes you better. I mean, wasn’t Ash and me leaving the whole reason you two made your band?”

Sal didn’t want to admit he had a point. He went to snap back but closed his mouth. Under his mask, no one could see his lip quiver. No one could see the flush on his cheeks. No one could see the tears gently leaving his eyes.

“I got tired of waiting for you,” Sal said, sadness beginning to consume him.

“I never asked you to wait for me.”

“Yeah,” the boy snapped, “but you _promised_ you would never leave me. Sorry if I took that for an invitation.”

The altercation started to calm. At this point, the two boys were just sick of being near each other. Larry, still looking at Sal, called over to Travis and asked if the bus was ready. He responded, annoyed, saying the bus had been ready for thirty minutes. Turning on his heels, the brunette flipped Sal off before walking away. Ash gave a look to him then to Sal, rolled her eyes, and followed her partner. Neil and Todd joined Sal. While watching the other band walk to the back of the building, Neil focused on Travis. Wasn’t that the blonde that the long haired guy called out to this morning?

“What the FUCK was that?”

Travis tore into Larry once they got on the bus. Ash wet a wash cloth and gently cleaned the blood off from under his nose and face as their manager continued to bark at him. The white rag grew red along with the shade of the blonde’s face. Eventually, he plopped down in his seat and waited for a response from Larry. He didn’t say anything. The brunette stared out the front windshield. Travis prodded him for an answer to his many questions, but he continued to sit in silence. He stayed like that the whole time, and with the main talker now mute, the rest of the band decided to do the same. That was the first time the entire bus felt speechless.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is the chapter in which we all are thinking the same thing as Travis....“What the FUCK was that?” Thank goodness Strange Neighbors is on a small break because Larry's nose is a bit fucked up thanks to dear Salio. Also, THANK YOU SO MUCH FOR 100 HITS! It really means a lot to me. I didn't really think anyone would like this fic because I'm a bit rusty, but seeing so many people like reading it really makes me a feel validated. Thank you so SO much!


	10. Pale Mask, Even Paler Face

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> With a new, shocking discovery, the peace in the hotel begins to fade.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> *****TW: Detailed Self Harm Scene*****

Neil decided it would be best to just go back to the hotel and order room service instead of going anywhere. The drive to the hotel was void of any sound other than the car’s engine. Sal blankly stared out the window, hoping to wake up from this nightmare. While driving, Neil’s thoughts bounced back and forth trying to decipher the face he recalled at the radio station. Todd saw his concerned expression and tenderly placed a hand on his knee, giving his a soft smile when their eyes met. Neil seemed to relax and returned the gesture.

Once at the hotel, Sal bolted out of the van and into the building. Unable to keep it together, he quickly unlocked his room, slamming the door. He slid down the back of the door and tore off his mask. Tears streamed down his face. Pulling his legs to his chest, he held them as he rested his head on his knees. Why did it have to be them? Anyone else would have been perfect, but seeing the boy he once sought refuge with and the girl who would calm him after three years, three long, empty, cold years, was miserable. Sal ended up falling asleep in that position out of pure emotional exhaustion.

About an hour passed before Sal woke up. Unfolding himself, he stretched and went to the bathroom to wash the dried tears off his face. He looked up at the face he saw in the mirror and critiqued every flaw he noticed. His right cheek exposed his teeth and a bit of his upper gums. The area where his nose would be was vacant. Only a hole reminiscent of an upside down heart remained. He grew mad at his appearance. Without his main supporters to reassure him that his insecurities were nothing to worry about, he felt so out of place. Retrieving his pocketknife from his backpack, he swallowed while pulling up his sleeves, chest tightening at what he would do next. He ripped off the band-aid that once protected his fresh wounds, and the sharp blade traced over them once more. Sal cringed at the action, but he didn’t really feel the pain anymore. The dangerous habit used to cause him agony, but now it merely stung in discomfort. His new cuts went deeper than any he had ever done. Sal placed the now ruby knife on the counter with a weak hand. When he started to get lightheaded, he sat down on the lid toilet to wait it out. He sat there for fifteen minutes letting the blood trail down his arms and splatter on the tile floor. Once he regained some of his strength, he took a couple tissues and cleaned up any evidence of the habit. Looking down at his mutilated arms, he sighed and pulled down his black sleeves.

He left the bathroom and went to check his phone to see if he got any texts from Neil or Todd. Searching the room, Sal remembered leaving his phone on the van, so he slogged over to their room. The dark-skinned man opened the door to find Sal, maskless and pale. He ushered him inside, knowing something was wrong. Todd jumped up from his place on the bed to check on him.

“Sal, your mask…”

The smaller boy’s eyes enlarged in realization. He covered his face with his hands. Since Neil was given two keys for Sal’s room, he ran and grabbed the mask.

“You usually don’t forget your mask… Are you feeling okay?”, the red head asked, getting him to sit in a chair.

“I woke up a little bit ago. I guess it slipped my mind.”

Sal kept his hands on his bare face until Neil returned with his comforting piece of thick plastic. Two swift clicks later and he had his prosthetic on.

“I’ve never seen you that pale,” Todd said, uneasy, “Have you eaten anything today?”

Sal shook his head.

“Neil and I were about to order room service. What would you like?”

Todd passed a hotel menu to him, but he pushed it away.

“It’s fine—”

“No, it’s not fine. You need to eat or else you’ll get sick or pass out or something.”

Giving in to Todd’s generous offer, Sal pointed to a food he felt he could probably stomach. After what happened at the radio station, he didn’t have an appetite.

“Oh, um, Neil? Can I have the van keys? I left my phone in there.”

After Sal got the keys from his manager, he weakly walked out of the room. Neil offered to get it for him, but Sal dismissed the favor, saying how maybe getting some sunshine will help him. Todd looked out the window when he left, watching for the blue haired boy. Neil continued their conversation they had before Sal came in.

“So, that blonde guy,” he started.

Todd turned around to him in response, “Oh, right! Well, I don’t think it was their manager you saw this morning. There is such a small chance of them being here.”

“I guess,” Neil shrugged, “but what if it was? That would be horrible.”

“Tell me about it…”

A large, black tour bus pulled into the parking lot. Sal bent over in the van to find his phone, unable to find it on the bench where he sat. He prepared himself to hear the whoops and hollers of a varsity soccer team or something like that, and expecting that only made him want to find his device faster.

The band climbed out of the bus and had hushed conversations. Even after lunch, Strange Neighbors’ had the lingering awkward feeling from Travis blowing up on Larry. It stirred the whole environment on the bus, and they were all on edge. Larry’s nose stopped bleeding after a few minutes on the ride to lunch, but the evidence of the fight stained his grey muscle tee. Ash kept an eye on him the whole afternoon, making sure he didn’t start bleeding again from attempting his habit. Of course, he found a way around it.

Hopping off the bus, Ash tried to lighten the mood by pointing out the “choir boy” rummaging through the white van. Larry breathed out a laugh as he commented on the boy’s oddly grunge sense of style.

“I was expecting more white polo shirt and freshly pressed khakis, but if they dress like that, hell yeah, that’s cool as shit.”

Having forgotten his sunglasses on the bus, Larry squinted his eyes and used his hand as a shield to get a better look. Suddenly, blue hair peeked from the bottom of a window.

“No fucking way.”

“What?”

Larry sauntered towards the van.

“That’s Sal.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter is REALLY short. I'm sorry, but this is the first scene that I got in my head that made me want to even start this fanfic. Also, if you have been keeping up with this story for a while, you will notice that the chapter names have changed greatly. I wasn't ready satisfied with the titles being only quotes--many of which that said "fuck" in the title. There's still some fucks in the titles but a bearable amount.


	11. "I'm not a fucking monster."

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> An emergency causes the four friends to unite, but once the issue is resolved, they return to being themselves. Larry develops a plan to get into the competition's head.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Get fucking READY

Ash’s eyes widened as she followed behind the brunette. When they got to the van, Sal still hadn’t noticed them standing there. Larry waited to be recognized, but once he realized that Sal was deep in search, he knocked on the door. Sal, not looking up, called out.

“Neil, I told you—you don’t have to follow me.”

Larry let out a hushed snicker and exchanged looks with Ash who stood ready to break up a fight. Sal found his phone and began to pick himself up from the floor. When he finally saw who was at the door, he froze.

“Hey, Sally Face.” Larry smirked, waving his fingers at the boy.

“Why are you here?”

Sal’s eyes narrowed at him, barely seeing Ash next to him.

“We’re staying here!,” the brunette laughed, “Oh, and sweet van by the way. I thought some poor church group was camping in this but the truth is way worse.”

Larry leaned into the van with a sneer.

“Explains why you aren’t on your knees right now.”

Annoyed, Sal hopped out of the van to confront Larry once again, but before he could get a word out, his head felt heavy. Ash saw his slight stumble but thought he lost his balance getting out of the vehicle. Suddenly, Sal’s vision hazed as his eyes rolled back in his head, and his body fell limp. Before the smaller boy could hit the ground, Larry caught him, almost instinctively.

“Oh, fuck, what do we do?”, Ash asked, distressed.

Larry looked around for any signs of Todd or Neil. Then, something drew him to an opened curtain on the third floor. He saw the back of a curly red head, and he hoped it was Todd.

“Ash, see that window up there? It looks like it’s on our floor, right?”, he gestured with his head to said window.

She nodded.

“We need to get Sal there. Remember where the window is.”

“How are you so sure that’s where he needs to be?”

Larry didn’t want to say his heart was controlling him.

“Shut up and trust me.”

Practically kicking open the side door, Ash lead the way to Todd’s room. After seeing the band waiting at the elevators, Ash told Larry to go to the stairwell. It was six flights of stairs up to the third floor. Ash saw the amount of steps and gave the brunette a look of worry. Then, she saw a switch flip in him. He sharpened his focus and tightened his hold on the slack body in his arms. Larry sprinted up the stairs, sometimes skipping some to get there faster. Ash found it hard to keep up with him, but she did it. Swinging open the door, Ash helped Larry get Sal to Todd’s room.

“Which one?”

Ash scanned the hall, thinking back to where she saw the window outside. She pointed to the room across Travis’s.

“That one.”

She banged on the wooden door hard enough to make her knuckles red. Larry panted next to her, looking down at Sal’s limp body and hoping he was okay. Neil opened the door to see the two breathing hard with the blue haired boy in Larry’s arms bridal style. He quickly stepped aside to let them in. Their entrance made Todd jump and question their arrival.

“Not the time,” said his worried manager sternly as he rushed to help.

Larry gently laid Sal on the bed. He pushed the blue hair out of his face and quickly unclicked the mask, tossing it on a pillow. Leaning his ear inches from his face, he listened for breathing. Relief washed over him when he felt and heard soft breaths coming from the unconscious body. Neil wet a hand towel with cold water and ask Larry to place it on Sal’s forehead. Ash and Todd watched, the air completely trapped in their lungs. The brunette rested the cloth on Sal’s forehead, pressing down lightly to make sure the cool liquid got on his skin. After a quick internet search, Todd said they should elevate Sal’s legs. Larry untied and removed the black boots as Ash got several pillows to stack under him. Then, Todd said his search instructed to loosed any restrictive clothing such as collars and belts. Once again, Larry took it on himself to unclasp every necklace from around Sal’s neck.

“Fuck, Sal, since when do you wear chains?”

“Today,” Neil said, regretting ever purchasing the accessories.

Without thinking too much about it, Larry unbuckled Sal’s belt with ease. No one addressed it, but he felt his face get hot with embarrassment. He didn’t think he would still be so skilled at it. Larry kneeled by the bed in exhaustion.

“What happened?”, Todd asked, calmly this time.

“We saw him in the van, and when he got out, he just fainted,” Ash explained.

“How long did it take you guys to get here?”

“Oh about a few minutes?”

“From the parking lot to here?”, Todd asked amazed.

“Went up the stairs,” Larry chimed in.

“Holy shit, no wonder you two look like you’re dying!”

Larry watched Sal’s chest rise and fall. He mustered strength to stand and put his mask on the side table beside him. Wiping the sweat off his face, he slouched on the bed, joining Ash and Todd. Neil observed the four of them. They weren’t lying when they said whatever they did, they did it together. For the first time in three years, there was no fighting between them. Todd, Ash, and Larry focused on Sal, not even noticing how Ash anxiously intertwined her fingers with the two boys beside her. The bad blood evaporated, even if for a while.

After a few minutes, Sal regained consciousness. Ash quickly unhanded the two boys to check on him. Larry wasn’t far after her. Still unable to think straight, Sal thought he was just dreaming. He could fathom the two of them caring about him anymore.

“Sal,” Neil spoke up, “how are you feeling?”

He shook his head a little bit.

“I think my vision is still blurry because you and Todd look a lot like Ash and Larry.”

Ash and Larry seemed to realize their position. Ash sat at the edge of the bed near Sal’s legs as Larry brushed back his blue locks while leaning over him. They both went upright immediately. Neil was dismayed with their sudden change. The two headed out the door, leaving. Todd, knowing the peace wouldn’t last, sat by Sal, keeping him from slipping back out of consciousness. Before Larry could close the door behind him, Neil stopped it.

“You’re really going to leave him…again?”

The brunette’s face grew sullen.

“Keep your fucking dog on a leash. It’s your job, not mine.”, he spat, forcibly closing the door.

Neil stood at the door, astonished by Larry’s complete flip of emotions. When he regained his composer, he returned to the two boys who were having a conversation about the gig in a few hours. Sal insisted he was fine and that Todd was right about what he said earlier. He said that once he ate, everything will be alright. Todd and Neil never clarified if Ash and Larry were actually in the room. Once room service arrived, the three of them ate while watching television. This wasn’t uncommon for them, but Todd and Sal were different. They seemed to have livened up slightly. Something about them seemed happier than usual, and finally, after working with the two for about a year or so, Neil finally saw a genuine smile on Sal’s face. No mask.

Ash and Larry sat on the edges of their beds, processing the fiasco. Ash hadn’t seen Larry that affectionate since Nockfell. Larry regretted being so vulnerable, and he pursed his lips.

“So,” Ash murmured, “why did you do it?”

“Do what?”

“The moment you saw Sal start to faint, you immediately went and caught him.”

“And?”

“Well… I just thought you were getting over him.”

“I’m not a fucking monster.”

“Didn’t say you were—”

“I would’ve done the same for you or Phillip or Maple.”

Ash hiked her leg up onto the bed and pulled it to her body.

“I guess I think it’s weird. Like, we say all this shit about Sal and leave him—”

“Don’t remind me.”

“—only to rescue him and make sure he’s alright. I mean, aren’t we supposed to hate him?”

Larry ran his long fingers through his hair with a shrug. They were supposed to hate him. The four of them were the each other’s main contender in the eyes of the public now. It was “Strange Neighbors VS The Wretched”, but while sitting in that hotel room, fingers interlocked in anticipation for the ailed boy, the two thought about how different life would have been if it was the four of them—not just Larry and Ash—who were signed with D.O.G. that fall. They could have avoided all of this.

The brunette sighed deeply.

“We should.”

Ash blinked, shocked by the comment.

“Sure, we’ve been dicks, but they were the ones that tried to ruin Strange Neighbors by ‘exposing’ us. They were the ones that made a whole song trying to fuck with our minds. Compared to them, what have we done? All we’ve done is responded to their bullshit.”

“Well you _did_ say once that my kisses were ‘better than plastic ones’. That could be taken as a stab at them.”

Larry shrugged, “Or I could just be stating a fact.”

“Fans took it as you two were a thing, though.”

“They also prioritized eyeliner over a shitty show.”

“True… So, what do we do now?”

Larry looked around the room in thought. They needed to get into their minds as much as Sal did, but like he said, they couldn’t write a song as harsh as his. He pondered a way to really get under his skin. A lightbulb flicked on.

“Didn’t they say on the radio they had a show at some bar tonight?”

Ash’s face dropped in protest.

“Larry, no. We will not go crash their show. We’ve discussed this.”

“No, no, no, I’m not saying sabotage. I’m saying we go to the show. We go, and we listen to their music like it’s _nothing_. You know that will completely throw him off. It’ll be fucking hilarious!”

“That’s a new level of shitty, dude.”

“I know.”

\---------------

Sal tuned his red and white guitar while sitting on an old, stain ridden couch in the green room. The sound of the bar patrons could be heard through the thin walls, and the smell of smoke and alcohol mixed with sweat filled every part of the building. On the ground were crushed cigarette butts, sticky puddles of spilled beer, and other bits of trash that speckled the floor, but this wasn’t uncommon for the bands’ venues. Overtime, the scenes and scents that once made them cringe in disgust became second nature. The walls in the green room was covered in signatures. Neil examined the names and signatures written in various marker colors. He recognized some of them and even looked up a few of the artists on social media. For a band manager, he didn’t really know about many other bands and musicians outside of those who work for Red-Eye. Neil turned to show Todd one of the accounts he found that seemed up his alley, and Todd, while tapping on the table with his taped drumsticks, went along with it. He already knew about the artist, but the smile spread across Neil’s face made him want to listen to him talk for hours. Sal glanced up at the exchange, rolled his eyes, and returned to his guitar to avoid feeling more unloved. The closer those two got, the more tour felt like third wheeling to Sal.

Strumming a few chords, the blue haired boy lounged sprawled on the couch as they waited to perform. After passing out earlier that day, Sal knew he had to take it easy, so that meant he couldn’t do any extreme warm up before the gig. Usually, he and Todd would jump around to get amped for the show, but not tonight. Tonight, Sal sat in blissful boredom, and Todd flirted with their manager. Before their set even started, things were weird and different, and they were only going to get weirder.

A stagehand beckoned to the two, signaling it was their time to take the stage. Neil gave them a soft smile before wishing them good luck. Sitting in the seat the red head once sat in, he shifted through social media as he waited for The Wretched’s set to begin. The sound of laughter coming from down the hall outside the green room. When the door to the backstage area opened, Neil jumped by the sudden clicking of the knob, and he heard the bar’s owner enter with others in tow.

“We are so honored that you guys thought of us when you two wanted a night out.”

“No problem, man! Honestly, we miss performing here.”

“Yes, it does seem like forever ago when the likes of ‘Strange Neighbors’ were just a lesser known band trying to make their way. Now look at you!”

The three spoke a while longer before the owner left to continue working. The lanky brunette plopped himself on the couch, motioning for his partner to sit next to him. Neil looked up to see Larry and Ash staring at him. They seemed to be waiting for a reaction, and they surely got one.

“What the hell are you to doing here?” Neil spat. Hearing such a tender, soft spoken man speak so crudely jarred the duo slightly. They barely knew the guy, but they already felt like they were being scorned by a parent or something.

“Relax, dude, we just wanted to listen.”

“Sure you are. You come here right as they are on stage, probably with hopes to see them moments before to get some insults in to throw Sally off, and you say you ‘just want to listen.’ Sounds like bullshit to me.”

“I know what it sounds like,” Ash chimed in, “but honestly, we just wanted to listen to them play.”

“Studying the competition?” Neil asked, cocking an eyebrow at the tall man sitting with his hands relaxed behind his head.

“You could say that.”

When Sal greeted the audience, Neil shot daggers at the duo sat before him, warning them that if they do anything to mess up the boys’ set, they would regret ever getting into the music business. The threat genuinely shook Larry and Ash who shared a glance before reluctantly nodding. In an attempt to drown out the two on the couch, Neil peaked through the curtain that lead to the platform where Sal and Todd stood.

Ash pulled a box of cigarettes from her back pocket and pressed it to her lips. Within moments, she blew smoke into the air with slight disinterest. She would rather be at the hotel watching television, talking with Maple, or doing anything other than support Larry’s sick game with Sal. The only reason Ash agreed to come was to keep watch over the lanky bastard and make sure the two don’t kill each other.

With an energetic strum of the guitar, the show begun.

“Hello Miami! Let’s fucking rage!” Sal screamed into the crowd, a slight growl in his voice.

The intense exclamation from the blue hair guitarist made Larry’s heart skip a beat. Was he always that aggressive? He didn’t remember that about Sal. He remembers a timid, well-spoken, put together (yet somehow broken) boy who only ever got mad at video games. Now, merely feet away was the same person but reinvented. Sal was no longer warm and full of youthful enthusiasm. His demeanor was cold, and his outlook on life grew darker and darker with each day that passed. Larry noticed the physical changes earlier at the radio station, but after finally hearing how much pain and passion went into each time Sal sang his part, he realized the boy changed inside and out. This wasn’t Sal Fisher from Nockfell anymore. The person on the guitar that night no longer felt like _his_ Sal—the Sal he was once desperately in love with. He became a stranger, and Larry would be damned if he didn’t admit he wanted to get to know every single inch of him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The more I write, the more I feel like I'm writing Sal and Larry's relationship to sound like Catra and Adora (She-Ra). The abandonment issues, the need to one up each other, the pining within their undertones. Ugh poetry.  
> Also, yes a shitload of stuff happened in this chapter. I thought Larry needed a bit of a bigger push for him to stop being such a mega ass, but here we are. Another thing....the next chapter is going to be INTENSE (in more ways than one), so get READY.


	12. Bathroom Blasphemy

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> With Larry and Ash at The Wretched's gig, the stage lights aren't the only things getting heated.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> TW: Implied Self Harm (I think)  
> (Also, just so you are aware, this chapter does include some blue balling, so I apologize in advance)

Between certain songs, Sal and Todd took a slight break to banter, giving them time to get some water and fix anything that needed it. Larry stood near Neil in the curtain. He didn’t dare to get closer to the man after the threat he served earlier, but he really did want to see his old friends in action. Sal turned away from the crowd, unbuckling the bottom clasps of his mask to drink some water. The only ones that could see his face were the two behind the curtain, but he was unaware of their presence. Some water escaped the gap in his mouth, causing the liquid to softly drip down his jaw then his neck. Larry followed the glimmering droplets as they cascaded down his scarred neck. This effortless, sultry display made the brunette’s mind wander to places he missed getting lost in. What if that wasn’t water dripping from his mouth? He swallowed hard at his thought. Moving away from the curtain, he rejoined Ash who was scrolling through her phone with a cigarette perfectly balanced between her lips. The longer she stayed, the worse she felt about the whole rivalry, so she decided to distract herself from her growing guilt.

Larry took the cigarette from her mouth, earning a protest from the woman, and took a long puff. Releasing a grey cloud into the air, he returned the burning cylinder to its owner.

“You know I have more in my back pocket. Why do you always have to smoke _my_ cigarette?”

Larry shrugged, crossing his arms over his chest while sinking into the couch.

“Hey, don’t get all sulky or whatever. It was _your_ idea to come here in the first place.”

He rolled his eyes at her. The game he and Sal were playing grew more intense by the day, and each meeting felt like everything was on the line—the band’s reputation and their future, especially. Ash started to get annoyed by the constant back and forth, so she decided to see their two ex-best friends as their band, not as individuals. If Larry would have done that, the months leading up to Ground Sound would have been a lot less stressful, but, of course, he loved making situations harder for himself. It was borderline sadistic.

Noticing his high had faded throughout the set, Larry went to the restroom to change that. His timing was perfect as the moment he escaped, Sal began to play “Treehouse.” The song was heavily muffled within the walls of the restroom, so Larry didn’t even recognize the closing song written about him. Removing the clear sandwich bag with his haven dust, he prepared to face Sal when the show ended.

Bowing in appreciation, Todd and Sal closed their set and thanked the venue and patrons for having them. The moment the two ducked behind the curtain, they spotted Ash, cigarette nearly completed, with an undecipherable expression on her face.

“Why are you following us?” Todd exclaimed with exuberant arm motions.

“It wasn’t my idea to come here!”

Ash’s defensive comment only made Sal realize that Larry was somewhere in the building, and they would once again have to confront each other. Nothing was ever easy with that guy.

“Where is he?” he asked, almost breathless.

She looked around briefly and returned a shrug. Feeling himself starting to spiral, he excused himself to the restroom. Once out of sight, he fondled the folding pocketknife in his back pocket. He never went anywhere without it, and this was a prime example of why. Closing the wooden door behind him swiftly, he leaned against it and popped the blade up with a flick. Pulling up his sleeve, he prepared to create more scars, but a moving figure caused him to freeze.

The brunette rubbed his nose lightly as he examined the scene before him.

“Cutting yourself? Jesus Christ, Sal, that is _so_ high school.”

“You’re really going to criticize me while I am literally hold a fucking knife in my hand?”

“Touché,” he shot a slight finger gun at the smaller boy, “Speaking of which, do you mind not pointing that at me? I mean I'm not intimidated or anything, but I've watched way too many crime shows to not know that a small, mentally unstable man holding a knife is bad news.”

Sal didn’t notice that he was practically holding Larry at knife point. He lowered the knife but didn’t close it.

“What the fuck are you doing here?”

“Well, I had to piss so I—”

“You know what I mean.”

Sal’s eyes expressed how he was not amused, and Larry laughed at the look.

“I thought we’d come and see what we are up against for Ground Sound.”

“Bullshit.”

“Hey,” Larry held his hands up in defense, “I saved you today. Don’t I deserve a little kindness?”

Sal shook his head, realizing that his eyes weren’t playing tricks on him earlier that day. Ash and Larry were, in fact, the ones who “rescued” him to the safety of Todd and Neil. Not wanting to accept their generosity, he narrowed his blue eyes to Larry’s brown ones.

“You don’t deserve anything. I know why you came here. You want to fuck with my head. Well guess what? You haven’t done shit.”

“Says the masked man about to perform a knife tango on your forearm.”

He had a point. They were in each other’s heads. Sal saw Larry look at the open knife then back to his eyes.

“Sal,” his voice turned soft, “Don’t do it.”

The blue haired boy scoffed, “Why shouldn’t I? You have your dangerous coping mechanism, and I have mine. We are even.”

Larry’s body language shifted from harsh to gentle. He knew he would have to be very careful in this situation. Not only could Sal hurt himself, but he could do a great deal of damage on the other guy in the bathroom.

“Please, Sally,” the words exited his mouth with a tenderness that once eased the smaller boy back to sleep after a vicious nightmare, “put it away.”

Keeping their eyes locked, Larry tried to persuade Sal to close the weapon and place it back into his pocket. He knew if he asked for the knife, it would only make Sal shut him out, so putting it away seemed like a more plausible course of action. Even in his hazy state, Larry could somehow still process the extremity of the situation unraveling Slowly, Sal rolled his sleeve down and folded the knife back into his back pocket. Larry couldn’t help but question the gory habit picked up by the smaller boy.

“Like I said, you have your dangerous habit, and I have mine. Sorry it isn’t as stereotypical rockstar as yours, but it’s my way of coping.”

Sal’s words were smothered with acid as he spoke. Frankly, he despised every interaction they have had that day. Larry couldn’t say the same. After Sal passed out in the parking lot, he began to understand the pain three years apart can have on someone. He never realized how much he missed Sal’s touch, his scent, his glares. It felt so nostalgic yet so new.

“Never thought of it as ‘stereotypical rockstar’ but if that’s how you want to see it,” he shrugged, “but I’m no rockstar, blue.”

That fucking nickname made Sal’s heart drop to the pit of his stomach in more ways than one. Larry pinned an arm beside the smaller boy’s head and leaned into his ear with a poisonous growl on his lips.

“I’m a _fucking god_.”

When the brunette moved inches before Sal’s masked face, he looked into his blue eyes through his eyebrows. Tension filled the air, and the two noticed. Sal was completely against he back of the door, and with Larry’s arm blocking and way on him to maneuver and leave, he gave in to his mischievous game.

“What’s a god,” Sal moved in closer, nearly closing the distance between them, “to a nonbeliever?”

“Watch your mouth, Sally Face, or else I’ll make you believe.”

Larry flickered his eyes down to the plastic lips and back up to Sal’s eyes. He knew Sal would play into his game, and he knew he needed something—anything—to distract him from hurting himself. As much as he hated to admit it, he deeply cared for the blue haired boy. He cared more than he would ever know.

“And how exactly do you expect to do that?”

The blue eyes gazing into the set of deep, mysterious brown ones staring back gleamed with a sultry glow.

“I’ll get you on your goddamn knees worshiping me.” The brunette snarled, a smirk spreading across his face.

Sal decided that he didn’t want to give Larry the pleasure of making him hot and bothered, so he leaned back against the door, rolling his eyes.

“Doubt it. Besides, you already have a devoted follower, remember? Speaking of which, I think she is worried about you being in the restroom for so long. Don’t want to keep her waiting like you did me, don’t you?”

His final statement made Larry want to do so many bad things to the smaller boy. He wanted to prop him on the sink next to them and fuck him so hard that he would walked out of there with a limp. He wanted to hear his name in heated, desperate moans

“Motherfucker—”

“Nah, I don’t really swing that way, and I don’t think _you_ do either,” Sal ducked under Larry’s colorfully decorated arm, almost wondering why he hadn’t done it sooner. Larry’s arm, without the purpose of keeping the boy in place, fell to his side limp. Sal cracked open the door.

“Also, thanks for finally telling the truth.”

“When did I…?” Larry asked, confusion painting his face.

“The body doesn’t lie, Lar.”

“What the hell are you going on about?”

“I know I said you may want to rush back to your ‘girlfriend’, but I think your little friend suggests you may not want to get back to her too quickly. Might make her wonder if you—I don’t know—were doing more than coke.”

His eyes flicked down to certain location on the brunette’s lower half, and with a devious grin, he wished his rival farewell until next time. Larry’s face grew deep red as he noticed his erection pressing against his pants. He bit his lip thinking about the turn of events that occurred in the bar’s shitty, dimly neon lit restroom, and he snickered to himself.

“Well then, Sal Fisher. Game on.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The formatting kind of went crazy at the end there, but eh it's life. So, what did you think? Fun fact: the bathroom scene was originally going to take place at the radio station, but I decided I had tormented those poor radio station workers enough. That was also my first time writing a scene that was more suggestive, so forgive me if it is a bit dull. I am always open to constructive criticism (as long as it is formatted very nice and not degrading)!  
> One last thing, THANK YOU FOR ALMOST 200 HITS!! It's awesome that so many people are reading this!! I hope my writing continues to entertain you all!


	13. Confession Hour

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A fight in the green room causes the truth to come out in the worst way.

Larry waited a solid five minutes before exiting the restroom, and he made sure everything was…settled. He walked into a somewhat heated argument between Todd, Neil, and Ash talking about the real intentions of the duo for coming to the show. Sal simply sat on the couch, not moving. He never said it, but the whole bathroom situation took all of his strength to come across as intimidating. After what happened at the radio station and the hotel, all he wanted was the eternal nightmare of a day to be over. If he could drive the van all the way back to Nockfell that moment, he would have, but he also probably would have also run over Larry before he even left the parking lot.

Putting his hands up while intervening the three adults yelling like kids, Larry motioned for them to quiet down.

“Jesus, do you guys want the whole bar to hear you guys?”

“And where have you been?”

Ash’s voice seemed raspy from the amount of screaming she had done throughout the day, but that didn’t make it sound any less irritated by his absence. The brunette lowered his arms and nonchalantly shoved his hands in his pockets. Sal peered at the man from the shadows of his mask. He feared Larry would tell the others about the whole self-harm thing. He didn’t want people to worry about him. He didn’t feel like he deserved their concern. Luckily for Sal, Larry didn’t mention it.

“Bathroom.”

“You were in there for a long time.”

“I had to take a shit.”

Disgusted by his response, Ash rolled her eyes and turned away, pinching the bridge of her nose in irritation. Todd gained the attention in the room as he gestured to the girl and caught Larry up on argument.

“She’s saying it was your idea to come here and fuck with Sal!”

Larry sharply whipped his head to Ash and hissed, “You fucking told them?”

“Yes, I fucking told them! I didn’t want them to think _I_ was the one who came up with it!”

Redirecting back to Todd, Larry’s face portrayed sarcastic kindness as he confirmed it was his idea. They already knew why they really came, so might as well not lie about it.

“Why are you such an asshole? I am genuinely curious. It’s shocking to remember how you used to be friends with us.”

“I know. It shocks me too. I can’t believe I settled for all you losers.”

“Oh so we’re _‘losers’_ to you? Really? That’s not how you felt when you came to me at three in the goddamn morning asking me to help you with math, which thank god you don’t have to use it anymore because you’re shit at it!”

Larry gave a slight nod in agreement. He was shit at math. Todd would always end up either staying up all night with him before a test, or he would let Larry copy his homework.

“I’ll rope Ashley into this too because why not—”

“Uh, Todd, I—”

“Nope, he said _ALL_ of us ‘losers’. That includes you!”

Ash sat back in a chair, hurt by the idea of Larry thinking less of her.

“Are you forgetting how Ash—the one you have toured many times with, the one who moved across the country with you, the one who you make out with in front of hundreds—are you forgetting that you two have been friends for as long as any of us can remember? If she is such a loser, then why do you continue to be in a band with her? You have enough attention to make your own band without her, but you don’t.”

The very idea of Strange Neighbors disbanding and Larry carrying on without her made Ash sick. She already felt replaceable, but now, realizing how much of a hold Larry had on the band, she felt powerless. The band was her idea in the first place. Ash shifted uncomfortably in her seat. Sal did the same, knowing he was probably next.

Larry stared at the floor, tongue between his teeth to keep him from laughing. Nothing Todd was saying was funny, but Larry couldn’t keep a straight face. Within seconds, his urge to laugh would fade. Todd glanced to Sal who gave him a weak nod for permission to talk about him.

“After you two left, Sal was crushed. He stopped talking. He rarely left his room when he was home. He even stopped eating for a while. I tried to help him in any way I could, but, to be quite honest, I suck at helping people with their feelings. Then, when Sal texted me asking to form a band, I was going to decline. I wanted to get my degree—I didn’t want to be a musician. I didn’t know the first thing about music, but something in me said to at least try it. I thought it would help Sal, and at first, it did. The nights we would mess with GarageBand and write these amazing songs were some of my best memories with him. I finally understood how it felt to help someone.”

Neil, noticing the red head getting more and more fired up, gently held his hand. Todd jerked it away.

“Then, you two decided to fucking tongue fight on stage, and you”, Todd pointed at Larry’s aghast face, “decided to make matters worse and mention whatever you had with Sal. That was a really shitty thing to do, Larry. Even after Sal poured his heart out in the parking lot today, even after you fucking threw him over your shoulder like some action movie to get him to safety today, you **still** act like a cocksucking, coke sniffing, ass kissing motherfucker with an ego that grows with each lie your Pinocchio looking ass tells.”

The room went silent. Todd was not one to lash out, but he, much like Ash, was done with the bullshit. He lightly panted after his outburst until he continued.

“What is it then? Are we really ‘losers’ to you, Larry?”

The brunette looked around at each person in the room. Todd’s face was flushed with anger. Neil looked at the ground, upset that the red head pulled away. Ash had tears welling up in her eyes. The only person he couldn’t read was Sal. He seemed to just stare at him, eyes emotionless. The expression on his mask was always that way, but his eyes? Never. There was always a spark or something that indicated how he truly felt, but this time, there was nothing. It was like looking at a mannequin.

“Well? We’re waiting!”

“Give me a second—I’m thinking!”

“That’s a first,” Ash scoffed, angrily wiping a tear from her cheek.

Larry shook the hair out of his face, looking up to the fluorescent lights on the ceiling. If someone got close enough, they could probably see his tears surfacing that he viciously pushed back. He finally found his words with a hard gulp.

“It’s been a long day. Let’s just go to the hotel and pretend this day never happened.”

“No,” a weak, monotone voice spoke out.

Everyone turned to the noise at once. Sal had been quiet since he returned from the restroom. He shakily stood up to approach Larry. The whole way, his body shook as if he was lightheaded. Neil prepared to catch him, but with a simple hand gesture, Sal dismissed him. The blue haired boy closely positioned himself in front of Larry. The brunette met his gaze, still trying to suppress his emotions.

“We are not running away from this anymore. Look, I know most of you are skeptical, but I think that there is a reason we are both in Miami at this moment. Call it what you want—fate, destiny, coincidence—but we can’t keep running. I’m so fucking tired of running, and I know you are too, Larry.”

The only one that could see Sal’s tears was Larry. His heart leapt to his throat. He knew Sal was right, but his elevated ego prevented him from admitting it. Larry shrugged.

“I don’t know. I think this running has been pretty good for us. I mean, without it, you wouldn’t have something to write your pretty little song about.”

“You of all people know it’s more than a song.”

Rolling his eyes, Larry tried avoiding Sal’s comment. Once again, everything Sal said was the truth, but Larry hated the truth. He hated the truth so much that he rejected it whenever he could. That’s why being a rockstar was so perfect for him.

“Well, if you think that ignoring each other is the best option, then we can just forget each other exists. But before we do that, I need you to be honest with me.”

“Depends,” Larry chuckled.

“Are we really losers to you?”

Larry’s glaze fell to the floor.

“Did you mean what you said during that concert…about the kisses?”

Larry said nothing.

“Do you really love her?”

The corner of his lips trembled, trying to decide how to answer Sal’s questions. His mind felt like a circus of thoughts and emotions. He scrambled to find the right words to say. Suddenly, a voice blurted behind him.

“No! He doesn’t!”

All eyes fell on Ash who sprung from her seat.

“It’s all a lie!”

Todd raised his fists in victory.

“I knew it!”

“You did not,” Sal snapped.

“Well, I did have my theories.”

Ash took a deep breath as she elaborated. A weight was finally lifted off her shoulders.

“Around week three of moving to California, Kenny, our boss, told us that posing as a couple would give ‘fans something to talk about’. At first, we were disgusted by the idea of dating, so we refused. Then, Kenny forced us to at least fake the relationship. And…”

Her words trailed off. She walked up to Larry, faintly grasping his forearm. His gaze shifted to see her heartbroken face.

“And remember when I told you Kenny pulled me aside to give me advice for faking it after he told you to leave the room?”

Larry’s face dropped, “Oh my god, Ash…Did he—”

“No! It wasn’t something like that! He told me that if I didn’t allow this whole fake dating thing to happen, he would find a loophole replace me, but he also said the only reason he kept me was because of something you said to him. God, I feel like such an accessory in his eyes.”

Disheartened by her confession, Larry embraced her. She wept in his arms. Todd, Neil, and Sal watched in disbelief. They finally knew at least some of the truth. The act carried on for a while before Ash pulled away. Larry leaned down and tucked a piece of her hair behind her ear gently.

“I’m so sorry. I had no idea—”

“What did you say?” Sal interrupted.

“What?” The brunette turned to face the smaller boy.

“What did you say to him to make him keep Ash?”

Taking a deep breath, Larry vaguely recounted his conversation.

“One day when we were auditioning band members, Kenny pulled me into a side room to meet this girl. He said she was auditioning to be a guitarist or something. She was a real piece of work too I’ll tell you that.”

Sal underhandedly let out a scoff.

“He said she was ‘perfect for me’ and ‘would give the guys something to look at’. The way he talked about this girl was fucking disgusting, and to make it even worse, he started to compare her to Ash—saying how much more talented and sexy she was. He wanted to get rid of Ash in favor for this random pop princess with a pastel pink guitar.”

Ash gasped, covering her mouth, as she realized her fears were more realistic than she thought. Larry motioned for her not to worry.

“But I told him I don’t perform without Ash. I said ‘you signed both of us, you’ll get both of us or neither of us’, and he looked pretty pissed. I swear if there were no witnesses, he probably would’ve killed me then and there, but he just left. An hour later, he was fine after auditioning in Maple to the group. He’s a fucking sicko. No wonder his kid is so fucked up and bitchy.”

Ash weakly hugged Larry from the behind, grateful for his “sacrifice”. He pat her hands and smiled at her then gazed at Sal.

“As for your many other questions, Sally, I think that you can figure those out for yourself now that you know one of the answers. I mean, if you really want to know.” He said with a wink.

Was he flirting with Sal? Right after he just called them all losers and made a scene in the restroom? What went on in that man’s head? Sal was frozen in place. He didn’t know what was real and what wasn’t. What was a game and what were true emotions? It felt like his night terrors were occurring in his waking hours. Todd and Neil exchanged confused looks. Nothing about that day felt real. The five were expecting to wake up at any moment. Sadly, they didn’t.

“Larry…”

Sal’s voice came out unsteady.

“Why did you do it?”

Unsure what he meant, Larry slightly tilted his head. Sal stared at his shoes.

“Why did you break your promise?”

Unlatching herself from the tall brunette, Ash backed away. Everyone wondered this. By now, everyone knew about Larry and Sal’s complicated past, and they were all curious. How could someone so infatuated with the other just give up like that?

“Think about it this way, Sally Face—I’m here now, aren’t I?”

“Yeah but you’re buzzed off your ass and acting like one little confession has changed everything. You _left_ me after you _promised_ not to. Why?”

Larry shrugged, “I don’t know! I wish I could tell you right now why I did it. I wish I could go back and change everything, every mistake, every misspoken word, but I can’t! You have no idea what utter shit I’ve gone through to get where I am now, so stop bringing up one goddamn promise I made years ago!”

A soft sniffle came from behind the masked musician.

“That’s what I figured. You never cared, didn’t you?”

Larry didn’t process what he said before the words left his mouth. He just wanted Sal to forget about how the promise was broken and think about how they were there now. Even though he was skeptical, Larry believed meeting at the radio station, finding out the others were at the same hotel, and Sal having a fainting spell was fate trying to bring them back together in the shittiest way possible. Love may be patient and kind, but fate was a cruel motherfucker with a twisted sense of humor.

Before Larry could find the right words to reiterate himself, Sal was already headed out the venue. When he tried to follow him, Neil stepped out in front of him.

“You’ve done enough today, man. Please…give it a rest, for once.”

Larry and Ash stood in the greenroom. Alone. The smell of smoke and alcohol masked the scent of discord that filled the room. The two couldn’t believe how much shit happened within the past 24 hours. Ash noticed dark spots appearing on Larry’s shirt. She thought they were tears, but when she looked up, Larry’s nose poured blood. Apparently, pent up emotions and cocaine destroyed nasal passages do not work well together.

“Holy shit, dude, your nose!”

“Just let it happen.”

Larry didn’t care about anything in that moment other than Sal. He knew he was being a dick, and he didn’t know how to stop. This asshole character he has played for so long started to fuse with his true self. He lost himself, and the only person that could bring him back to earth hated him. Larry knew the moment they returned to the hotel, the aching in his heart would only get worse, and he knew that maybe a couple of doors away, there was a soul that he corrupted out of his own selfishness. All he wanted was the pain in his chest to go away.

“Just let _fucking_ _happen_.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> My mental health isn't being as steady as it usually is, so if the updates become more sporadic, I'm sorry. I use writing as a sort of coping mechanism, but it also tends to make me feel like garbage when I just can't think of how to progress the story or what to do with certain characters.


	14. Operation "Fix Them"

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Ash and Larry are acting more distant than usual. Travis and the rest of Strange Neighbors devise a plan to get them back to normal before his dad finds out.

The atmosphere at the hotel felt stale. Travis, upon seeing Neil in the lobby, the next morning, finally made the connection that Strange Neighbors and The Wretched were staying in the same building, so he sent out a text to the band warning them. The others didn’t care much as this wasn’t their fight, but some were sympathetic to Ash and Larry’s situation. When Maple tried to talk to Ash at breakfast, she wouldn’t respond. Her eyes had horrendous bags under them, and her shoulder length hair was untamed and messy. She looked like a mess, and Maple was almost glad that they had a few days off. Ash was in no condition to perform.

Larry wasn’t any different, physically, but his attitude grew more rude and distant. Like Ash, he didn’t talk much, but when Travis began to interrogate him about what the two last night, he slammed his fists down on the hotel table and stormed off to his room. They became an unstable duo, and the band noticed the obvious change.

Travis called the remaining members into his room. Phillip sat legs crossed on the blonde’s bed, despite his protesting, and played a game on his phone. Propped on the arm of a cushioned chair beside the window sat Maple with Chug seated. The two watched as their manager paced back and forth, scampering his mind for any idea of something that can bring the troubled members back to earth. Being kind was not his strong suit in the slightest, so he really needed the three to assist him.

“Those two need to get their act together before I get Mr.Phelps—”

Phillip gave the blonde an amused look.

“Don’t start with me. I can end you.”

“I’d like to see you try, daddy's boy.”

Ignoring the bothersome drummer, Travis continued.

“I really do not want to get Kenny,” he cut his eyes to the vibrant blue haired menace, “involved in this petty rivalry drama.”

Everyone knew that Kenny hated dealing with personal affairs, even though he always seemed to always be in everyone’s business. If he found out about the fight in the parking lot or that the two leads of his most successful band to date, he would find a way to make matters a thousand times worse. Kenny had this odd ability to turn the situation around and make it about him, and it constantly provided issues for not only his son but everyone else involved. They knew Ash and Larry needed to be “fixed” before the boss found out. Too bad their idea department had run dry.

“What if we go a museum or something? You know, it gives them a quiet place to think while also having something to look at!”

Maple’s suggestion was dismissed as Travis addressed Larry’s trifling, slightly hostile nature manifesting. There had been way too many instances where they had to excuse themselves from a venue because of his behavior. He never meant it, and he usually felt guilty afterwards. Travis didn’t want to risk anymore exposure of Larry’s attitude.

“How about we all have a nice dinner tonight? I know a lot of incredible restaurants around here!”

Travis dwelled on Chug’s idea but eventually rejected it. They needed to get them somewhere where the two had many options. If they were too closed in or limited, who knew what would happen? They needed an open space to be free for a while. The three pondered on possible activities for what felt like forever. Even with their brains put together for once, it seemed like anything they came up with would result in further disaster.

“You guys are idiots, sometimes.”

They whipped their heads to the boy sprawled out on Travis’s bed in offense. He sat upright, pausing his game.

“We are in Miami. In January. The beach is going to be practically vacant. Plus, we wouldn’t even need to swim or anything, we could just relax or something.”

“Do you know how cold it will be?”

“Obviously not, weather boy, but it’s better than giving the himbo a place to break something and the chit a place to openly have a mental breakdown.”

“What if someone recognizes us?” Maple proposed.

They never really had a major problem with the paparazzi, but they did know that if someone did spot them, a crowd of fangirls would flock to Larry then maybe to other members.

“Hats and sunglasses are a given at any beach. As long as we don’t bring any attention to ourselves, we wouldn’t have a problem.”

Travis blinked, surprised by Phillip’s uncharacteristically helpful contribution. After much inner turmoil, the blonde accepted the idea. He told the three to get ready and put Maple and Chug on Ash and Larry watch. They would assure the two’s attendance and improvement. When asked why the manger or drummer could do it, Travis simply said something about how he had the hardest job of making sure Phillip didn’t try and deliberately fuck anything up for kicks and giggles. The drummer had a reputation for being an agent of chaos. He was proud of it too.

Knocking on their door, Maple and Chug waited for a response. After eating breakfast, the duo retreated to their room, and with all the havoc the day prior brought, no one felt it necessary to bug them. Larry opened the door, eyes half lidded in exhaustion.

“Jesus Christ, Larry, you look like shit,” the purple haired bassist sarcastically grimaced, trying to be funny.

“Wow Maple you should invite me to your stand up show. I’m sure I’d hate it.”

Larry began to close the door, but Chug stopped him.

“Uh, we are all going to the beach, so get ready!”

“The beach? It’s winter.”

“Winter doesn’t exist in Florida.”

Unsure if he really wanted to leave the room, Larry gave them a quizzical look. It was clear that he thought the beach may be a fun way to pass time, but the pain in his chest after what happened after the concert made him unsteady. Maple, in one swift motion, barged into the room and sat on Ash’s bed. The downcast girl had wrapped herself in her blankets, creating a cocoon around her. Maple gently rubbed the fabric burrito of a woman as she filled her in on the day’s plans. She smoothed back the disheveled hair that covered Ash’s face. Her tired green eyes stared at the wall. Geez, who died that made these two such ghosts?

“Ashley,” Maple softly whispered, “you need to get up, okay? I know you are upset, but I also know going to the beach will lift your spirits. It’s sunny. It’s warm. It’ll be refreshing to breathe in the nice, salty air of the ocean.”

No response came from the burrito.

“C’mon, we didn’t have any one on one time last night. I miss our talks. The only people I’ve had conversations with are Chug, Travis, and Phillip, and out of the three, I enjoyed one. Just…consider it. Okay?”

Ash nodded, and Maple gave her a tender pat on the arm before returning to the door. Larry was still reluctant. Yesterday was not only hard on him emotionally, but it was also very trying on his body. The bridge of his nose as well as his under eyes formed dark bruises from the fight in the parking lot. When we woke up, he found specks of crimson coating the white pillow beneath him. Dried blood crusted around his nostrils. Maple was right. He did look like shit. To give them time to think, the couple excused themselves.

Closing the door, Larry reconnected with his bed. Normally, he was not the type to hide away under mounds of blankets, but his vulnerability consumed him. The feeling was so foreign.

“Should we go?” a voice came from the cocoon of covers.

Larry shifted further into his bed. His arms were sore from carrying Sal, and his legs were no different. His nose throbbed along with his head. He felt like an absolute wreck. Of course he didn’t want to leave the hotel room.

“Go, if you want to. I’m not leaving this bed.”

“Why not?”

“Did you have to carry the weight of a medium child up multiple flights of stairs even after said child rocked your shit?”

“Right…”

Ash slowly shuffled out of bed. With all the drama going on with her, Larry, Todd, and Sal, she looked forward to hanging out with Maple for a while. Before Maple joined the band, it was just her and Larry. Ash was used to being around guys a lot, but she started to miss the company of another woman. Whenever she would try and discuss with Larry about more feminine topics, he cringed like a middle schooler. With the addition of the bassist, Ash finally had someone to really relate with. They would sit in the back bedroom of the tour bus and talk for hours. Whenever Travis would barge in, warning them to be quiet, they’d carry on to spite him. No one really paid attention to their, as Larry called it, “girl-talk” other than their manager. Sometimes, they thought he was offended that he wasn’t invited to converse with them.

Pulling on a pair of denim shorts and a casual grey t-shirt, she fastened her baseball cap to her head and slipped on some sandals. She made sure to pack for any occasion. Before she left the room, Ash checked on Larry. Upon looking at his bruised face, she took an empty bin liner and placed a few ice cubes in it, securing it with a hair tie. Tapping his shoulder, she requested he keep the ice on his nose. He groaned as the cold sensation touched his skin, but it sure helped the pain.

“If you need me, you have my number. Get some rest.”

Giving her a thumbs up, Larry drifted back to sleep. Before she left, Ash was struck with an idea. It’s been a long time since she has texted anyone from Nockfell, and since she cleaned her phone of most of the contacts, she thought if beneficial for a certain person to have her number. Using the notepad and pen provided by the hotel, she wrote ten digits along with a little message and sketch and tucked the piece of paper into her pocket. Maple and Chug waited for her in the hallway by the elevator. Their faces lit up as she approached them, but they noticed the empty space beside her.”

“Is Larry coming?”

“He decided not to. His body is fucked.”

“Fair enough! C’mon, let’s head downstairs before Travis starts spam texting us.”

“You two go ahead. I—,” she facepalmed as if she forgot something, “I left my phone in the room. I’ll see ya in a sec.”

Once the elevator doors shut with her friends in it, she snuck to the other end of the hallway. Remembering the room number, she slipped the piece of paper under the door, and she evacuated to the Uber to rejoin the group. Travis seemed aggravated that Larry wasn’t there and asked Chug what he even pays him for. Chug knew this whole scheme was to boost the morals of both Ash and Larry. In his defense it was extremely hard to keep up with that guy. The brunette did what he wanted, when he wanted. If he didn’t want to do to the beach, he would find some excuse to pass up the opportunity to do whatever he so desired. Larry watched the bus leave the parking lot, and he grinned, thinking no one was around to annoy him. Switching on the television, the lanky man tried relaxing alone for the first time in months.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Today is the one month since I've started writing this story! I know I didn't post it until later because I wasn't too sure about posting it at first, but I'm glad I did. Thank you all for reading and leaving kudos, by the way! It's really nice to see people like this fic!


	15. Pillow Fights and Forts

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Todd and Neil find Ash's note under their door, and Todd contemplates whether he wants to trust her or not. Meanwhile, an oddly behaved Sal hangs out in his room.

The sun peeked through the thick hotel curtains and shined into Sal’s eye. His head pounded in his skull from a restless night full of tears and contemplation. Memories of yesterday swarmed in his mind the moment he gained consciousness. Oddly enough, that night was the first time he didn’t have a nightmare. In fact, he didn’t remember dreaming at all. Sal rubbed the sleep out of his eyes before looking at the clock across the room. The neon red digits read "1:03PM", but he couldn’t believe it. Neil usually never let him sleep in, even if they had days off. After verifying the time by looking at his phone, he assumed Neil and Todd forgot about him and left to go do something. He felt sort of relieved. Honestly, he didn’t feel like third wheeling that day, but Sal did have the urge to do something he had not done in a while.

Despite Sal’s assumption, Neil and Todd remained at the hotel. Todd suggested that the charming manager allow his bandmate to sleep in later than usual. Neil saw this as a perfect opportunity to get to know the man he fell for the moment he saw him. They sat on their beds and rambled for hours about their lives before The Wretched and how great tour has been.

“Okay, be honest. What has been your favorite moment working with me and Sal?”

Neil’s face grew hot.

“I—uh—I think late night drives with y’all have been the best.”

“Too vague.”

“Too—I answered your question!”

“I said be honest. We’ve been around each other for months now, so I know when you’re lying.”

Todd peered at him from over his glasses. When their eyes met, both of their hearts leapt, sending the two into a blushing mess.

“Well… If I’m being honest—the moment I met you guys was my favorite moment.”

“That’s so cheesy!”

“I know it is, but it’s true! You two were so shy and quiet, but my gut told me that the three of us would get along great. And it was right because now I don’t see The Wretched as a band, I see it as a family.”

“Aw, Neil! Are we your famawee?” Todd gushed in a cutesy accent, earning a light pillow to the face. He took that as a declaration of war.

“Oh, it’s on.”

In retaliation, the ginger playfully pounced onto his charming manager, laughs erupted from the latter. Todd repeatedly hit Neil with the nearest pillow he could find, of course not causing any real damage. With each pound of the fluffy pillow, he taunted the man under him, but both of their smiles radiated as he spat the fake insults.

Eventually, Todd realized his position on top of Neil. The drummer straddled his manager, and once he was finished attacking him, Todd placed his hands on each side of Neil’s head. There was a moment where their laughs began to fade, examining each other’s faces as if they would never see them ever again. Neil’s eyes stopped at Todd’s lips, and Todd noticed, his face burned as his face grew red. Without thinking about the consequences, both leaned in slowly. For weeks, the two of them felt the tension between them grow more intense with each late night drive from city to city, each sound check, each greeting after shows. Finally, they were about to do what they fantasized doing since they first met, but the sound of paper sliding under the door caught their attention.

The two men coughed or cleared their throats awkwardly as they reset themselves back to normal. Todd, after maneuvering clumsily off his manager, went and picked up the folded note.

“Is that from Sal?”

“No, it’s from Ash.”

“Oh? What does it say?”

“It has her number on it, a sketch of—I guess—a dove with an olive branch, and a message saying ‘sick of the B.S. text me if you want to fix this shit’. Wow, didn’t expect a peace treaty after one bad day.”

“Well, it was a pretty terrible day. Maybe she realizes how stupid all of you are being.”

Todd cut his eyes over to Neil who held his arms up in defense.

“Hey, I call it how I see it, and I see four old friends who have no idea how to deal with their feelings.”

He was right. None of them knew how to handle their emotions well. When Todd got overwhelmed or upset, he threw himself into a book or would be locked into whatever was on his computer for days at a time. As for Ash, she would disappear for hours, and no one knew what she did when she was gone. Larry indulged himself in various drugs, sometimes getting so high that he would end up random places where his friends would have to pick him up at ungodly times. Sal had a problem with hurting himself for years, and along with that, he would close himself off from the world. They used each other as coping mechanisms, but when that was no longer an options, their issues only grew.

Grabbing his phone, Todd put the number in his phone. When Ash and Larry cut ties with him, he deleted their numbers from his phone as well. He didn’t plan on messaging her right away, but after being given some time to think, he would text her. Neil told Todd that Ash’s “peace treaty” could mean whatever Sal and Larry once had could be fixed. Todd laughed mockingly.

“I don’t think either of them could get their heads out of their asses for that to happen.”

Neil looked taken back by the comment, “Are you serious? Were you even here when Larry casually undressed Sal—”

“He was just doing what the internet said to do! Plus, he probably only did it to make his ego bigger by ‘saving’ his ex.”

“I’ve seen a few guys undress another guys with the intent of raising their ego, and that was not it. That was pure, repressed feelings!”

“What was that about the undressing?” Todd asked, eyes squinted in curiosity.

Neil changed the subject swiftly.

“Also, did you notice how he barely let anyone get close to Sal? I don’t know, Todd. If that doesn’t mean something, I don’t know what does!”

Todd replayed what Sal said—more like yelled—in the parking lot the day before. Did Larry and Sal really hide something because of him and Ash? He didn’t know how to feel about it. Of course, if the two ever did get together, he knew that him and Ash would be happy for them, but the thought of Sal and Larry distrusting them struck a strange nerve in him. He wanted to travel back in time, grab the two by their shoulders, and tell them that it doesn’t matter what others think—if it’s love, it’s love!

Shaking his head, Todd freed himself from his thoughts. After looking at the time, Neil and Todd decided it would be a decent time to pop in on Sal and see what he was up to. Todd looked down at the new contact on his phone screen while walking down the beige hallway. Could him and Ash really fix what happened between the four of them? Most of him had doubt, but something in him had hope—hope for the four of them to return to the teenagers from Nockfell just trying to get by.

Sal opened the door to his manager and bandmate, ushering them inside. The room was covered in pillows and blankets. It looked like a toddler was left alone, and, essentially, that is how Sal was acting.

“Welcome—to Fort Fisher!” he said with a grand gesture to the piles of pillows balanced between the two beds covered in sheets.

Neil and Todd exchanged looks. Was Sal okay? Usually when they’d enter his hotel room it would be messy from his general being—not from hotel room shenanigans.

“Would you like the tour?”

Neil, playing into whatever madness the boy was experiencing, nodded. Gently pulling up the bed sheet “curtain”, Sal scooped his hand around to motion the man to look inside. There were even more piles of pillows in the tent created. His phone was propped on the dresser drawer between the beds to allow hands free entertainment. He seemed to be watching an old cartoon on Netflix. Sal used the Gideon bible provided by the hotel to keep the whole fort sustainable. Todd was honestly impressed by the stability of the pillow fort, but he did question if using a bible in the construction was sacrilege or not.

“Um, Sally, are you okay?”

The blue haired boy whipped his head around to the ginger, a youthful gleam in his eye, “Yeah, why do you ask?”

“Well, for one, I haven’t seen you build a pillow fort since—like—sophomore year, and, two, you are way more chipper than usual. Are you on anything?”

“Dude, no. I just woke up and had this weird urge to make this. I’ve just been watching Ricko’s Modish Wife and chillin’ in it nonstop since making it. Anyways, I know you guys didn’t come here to look at my _sick_ pillow fort, so what’s up?”

Exchanging looks once again, Todd and Neil were shocked to see the usually straight faced, distant boy act so bright and inviting. They both internally debated sending Sal to the doctor in fear that his fainting spell from yesterday caused him any mental complications.

“We just came to check on you...but you seem to be doing fine. Did you have anything in mind to do on your free day?”

Sal shook his head. He really had no idea what he wanted to do. There was a profound bliss in being clueless about what to do next. Sal’s stomach roared with hunger. He suddenly had a clue of something to do.

“Actually, food would be nice.”

Neil, clapping his hand with a snap, agreed and turned to Todd for confirmation. The ginger looked so confused by the scene happening in front of him. He began considering possession to explain Sal’s strange behavior. His eyes bounced between the two before he approved.

The two men left Sal to get ready as he was still in his pajamas. Brushing his teeth then hair, he tied his blue locks in two pony tails. After vigorously shaking his head, he decided they were secure and reclasped his mask to his face. Sal looked through his bag for clothes, and he began to regret only ever wearing the same outfit all the time. He chose a lightweight, soft black long sleeve and paired it with ripped, maroon pants.

Looking at the box of accessories on the TV stand, he cringed thinking about how tight they felt, and also, he thought of Larry taking the various necklaces off him yesterday. Neil finally told him the whole story after they arrived at the hotel the night before, and Sal didn’t really know how to feel about it. He kept pushing the thought to the back of his mind, thinking that repressing the event would make him feel better. It didn’t help, but he sure kept repressing it!

Tying his navy sneakers, Sal looked at himself in the mirror. His appearance reminded him of how he looked in high school, and he found it nostalgic and off putting. The prosthetic mask he wore never underwent any big changes as he matured. The people who created his mask did a great job of giving him a face that remained aesthetically constant. Sometimes he wished he could facially express how he truly felt, but he dismiss the thought as he found security behind his mask.

Looking closer at himself, he sensed something was missing from his look. Since he was on his off day, he didn’t care to wear his fake eye, so he shrugged off the feeling as just that. As he left the room, he grabbed his wallet and keycard, leaving the pocketknife in the back pocket of the pants he wore the night before.

Exiting his disheveled room, Sal heard the sound of crumbling aluminum wrappers emerging from down the hall. He turned to see Larry standing at his and Ash’s room, fumbling to put the keycard into the slot on the door. In his arms were multiple bags of various chips and bottles of sodas. His diet always consisted of primarily junk food, so this was no real surprise. The two locked eyes. Larry seemed to brace himself for another argument, but Sal gave the brunette a quick, upward nod before disappearing into the elevator.

Shocked by the lack of a confrontation, Larry stared at the empty space where the blue haired boy once stood. Seeing Sal act so chill even after everything that happened confused Larry. _Did he even see the bruises on his face? How could he just brush off punching his ex in the face? Why did he look like the high schooler Larry once knew so fondly?_ His heart leapt at his final thought. Memories of pulling on those pigtails as the smaller boy’s moans filled the air flooded his mind. The picture of Sal beneath him, the faint feeling of his long fingers on his chest, and the reminder that the same guy who once kissed him with sensual passion drew the oxygen from his lungs. He swallowed hard. Finally, the keycard slid into the thin slot with a small ding.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I like how this is supposed to be a Salarry (or Sallarry however the fuck you spell it) fanfic, but Teil got a real intimate scene before they did. Don't worry! The tides will be changing soon for Sal and Larry (obviously if the latter is thinking about...you know), so please continue reading!  
> Also, this should go without saying, every single person in this book would be in favor of ACAB and black lives matter. Strange Neighbors and The Wretched say gay rights as well. This is flavor text.


	16. Origins

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Ash tells Maple how Strange Neighbors came to be as everyone else enjoys the beach.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> OVER 300 READS? Holy shit! Thank you guys so much! I hope you are all enjoying the story as much as I am enjoying writing it.  
> This chapter focuses on Ash and the band itself, so if you want more "lore" (can I call it that?) about the band, I suggest you read this. If not, you should still read this because this chapter has a special place in my heart and a good(ish?) message to it. Also, read the message at the bottom for important announcement.

At the beach, the rest of Strange Neighbors enjoyed the outdoors. Traveling from city to city meant a lot of being stuck inside a cramped tour bus, so getting to freely roam the sandy, surprisingly warm beach was a fantastic change of pace for the band. Phillip rolled up his pant legs as he searched the water for shells and wildlife to harass Travis with. Speaking of Travis, the blonde sat on a towel under an umbrella reading a thick book as he fiddled with his schedule more. With the sun illuminating the sand making it impossible to concentrate, Travis regretted every decision leading up to then. Chug ate some snacks he brought from the hotel as he chatted with Maple.

On the edge of the shore stood Ash, eyes fixed on the horizon. Her thoughts ran rampant as she waited for a notification from Todd to break her focus. She knew he probably didn’t trust her, but part of her hoped he would. When Maple approached her, Ash jumped slightly, startled by her sudden presence. Maple apologized as they laughed at the reaction.

“So,” the purple haired girl gently extended an arm around Ash to smooth her auburn locks, “why are you staring out to the water like the wife of a sailor who never returned from sea?”

“That was oddly specific.”

“Hey—I call it how I see it. So? What is it?”

Letting out a sigh, Ash released her tense shoulders, “With everything that happened yesterday, I feel…I don’t know…”

“…like shit?”

“Ha, exactly,” she said with a slight laugh and nod, “and now I feel like I’m to blame for all of this shit.”

“Ash, you always blame yourself for everything.”

“But this time I know it’s my fault!”

“How?”

“It’s my fault that Larry and I even made a band! If I would’ve just shut the hell up about it, none of this would have ever happened. Todd wouldn’t be so on edge and probably getting a degree like he wanted, and Sal wouldn’t have become so…vicious? I guess? If only I never got the idea to start a band…”

Maple came across a realization.

“You’ve never told me how you got the idea to make Strange Neighbors.”

“You never asked.”

“Well…Now I’m asking.”

Thinking back, Ash searched for the words to recall the events that led up to Strange Neighbors becoming a thing. The two girls sat down by the ocean, waves gently crashing on their bare feet. With a sigh, Ash began her story.

Growing up, Larry used to go to metal and rock concerts with his dad. When he would come to school the next day, he would tell Ash all about it, and no detail was spared. He told her about how the speakers made the ground rumble, how the arena smelled like alcohol and sweat, and anything else that he was amazed by. Although she didn’t really care for the music, Ash listened to his tales of grandeur about his experiences. Then, Larry’s dad left out of the blue, leaving Larry and his mom alone.

When Ash heard what happened, she wondered how she could cheer up her friend. The two had art together, so each day in class, Ash prepared to do something stupid or bring him something fun to lift his spirits, but he barely showed up to class. She tried calling him for days, but he would never come to the phone. She ended up putting gifts outside the Johnsons’ apartment. The presents earned her a lovely written letter from Lisa, Larry’s mom, but still nothing from Larry. While thinking about what she could do to cheer him up, she remembered his love for music and concerts.

She tried getting tickets to concerts, to no avail. Each time she tried, they were either too expensive, sold out, or her parents wouldn’t allow her to go as it was either too far or too explicit of music. Running out of options, Ash decided to bring the concert to him. One visit to the music store, multiple online tutorials, and internet searches later, the young self-taught guitarist was determined to make her friend happy again.

Knocking on his bedroom door, Ash called out to Larry. When he opened the door, he looked like a wreck. The bags under his bloodshot eyes indicated that he was exhausted and had been crying. Looking down at the guitar and puny amp, the lanky boy asked what she was doing. After being invited into Larry’s room, upon his mother’s request, Ash plugged in her guitar to the portable amp and made a overdramatic speech like many musicians do before they play. Although she felt like an idiot doing it, she knew it he would like it. That didn’t stop her from feeling stupid. Larry, beginning to understand, cracked a smile. With a pitiful downward strum, a scratchy noise erupted from the speaker.

Ash’s guitar playing was not terrible, but it surely was not concert worthy. Neither kids cared about how it sounded, they sang the lyrics at the top of their lungs. Lisa watched teary eyed as she saw her son enjoying himself for the first time in weeks. All of Ash’s failed attempts paid off when she and Larry jammed out in his bedroom until their voices went hoarse.

Years passed and Sal joined their lives when they were in high school. He really helped Larry come out of the shell he put himself into. Another thing that helped Larry was the band Sanity’s Fall. They easily became his favorite band with their raw instrumentals and coarse lyrics. He and Sal would head bang in his room for hours, leaving them dizzy. Larry knew Ash wasn’t a big fan of metal, so he would play other CDs while she was over painting with him and Sal, but he changed it the moment she left. He never introduced her to the band, but after high school and moving to the city, one of Ash’s roommates invited her to see a Sanity’s Fall concert. She had never heard of the band nor attended a real concert before this, but in need of change, she went.

The moment she heard the first song blaring through the loud amps, shaking the earth beneath her, she understood everything Larry ever said when they were younger. She didn’t mind the bright lights and horrendous scent coming from the other concert attendees. Her mind could only think about the way she felt the drums in her chest. The music gave her energy to jump and dance along with her roommate along with other fans in the crowd. Seeing the band members shred their instruments and belt out their lyrics with passion reminded her of the friends she had in Nockfell. When she returned to her apartment, she decided to move back home for the summer, the idea of forming the band in mind.

After she moved back, Ash, much like how Larry would when they were kids, told her friends all about her first concert experience. Larry was so excited that not only Ash was back, but she loved his favorite band. They talked about music and art for hours on end, but they didn’t realize Sal sitting silently in the background as to not intrude on their bonding time. At the end of that summer, Ash moved in with her old high school friends but not because of college like she originally told Sal. After an afternoon of intensely discussing music, Ash proposed her idea of forming a band to Larry. His face lit up. There were two occupations that Larry had always wanted and that was either an artist or a rockstar, and hearing one of his best friends asking to form a band with him in it was like a dream come true!

They decided to call the band “Strange Neighbors”, a name based off the quirky tenants in the old apartment building. After Ash started to invite Sal to every meeting, the three grew very close. Even Todd, who didn’t really care for music, had been helping them record songs with his high tech microphone he had on hand. They weren’t sure where they would go with just a guitar player and a singer, so they asked Sal to join the band. Wanting to branch out and possibly make the band's sound more depth, Ash considered learning the bass, leaving Sal as the lead guitarist in her place. If anyone were to carry the title, she thought Sal fit it best. When he rejected joining, the two were sad but understanding. The three continued creating music together, and with the help of Todd’s newfound mixing skills, they created their first demo which they passed out to anyone interested. After uploading a rough video from one of their garage concerts, Kenneth Phelps discovered them and contacted them almost immediately, and the rest was history.

“Damn, I didn’t think it was that deep.”

“Now you know why Larry and I don’t really talk about it in detail. That is why we usually say ‘We got bored, saw a guitar, and just did it’ and call it a day.”

“Did anyone ever figure out where Larry’s dad went?”

“Nope, still a totally mystery. To this day, no one has seen him, and the case was closed a long time ago. Larry still thinks he’s out there, though. He thinks it stupid to have hope at this point, but he still does.”

“Hope needs a bit of stupidity. Without it, there would be nothing to have hope for.”

Ash tilted her head in confusion.

“It’s like when your friends do something stupid, you have hope that it won’t get them in trouble or hurt.”

A blank expression indicated Ash was still puzzled.

“Ugh,” Maple uttered in slight frustration, “for example, yesterday, it was stupid of the radio station to book both us and your other friends back to back, knowing the problem between the four of you, but from that shit show, you have hope that whatever is going on can stop.”

She understood that time but questioned how Maple knew she wanted the rivalry to stop.

“You are easy to read when you’re away from the snow sniffing junkie. By the way, has he texted you or anything?”

Ash forgot Larry was gone. For once, she felt like her words were being heard without the assistance of the brunette to make everyone quiet for her. Being eclipsed by Larry for so long made Ash believe whatever she said was irrelevant, but, in reality, no one would be there if not for her. She was the main creator of Strange Neighbors, not Larry, not Kenny. Without her lousy guitar playing in a basement as a kid, the band wouldn’t be able to inspire other people to do music like that concert did for her years ago. An odd sense of power that came over her with this awakening. Although she was right about the whole feud between the four of them being her fault, she finally knew how to fix it.

“Ash? You good? You’re doing the staring thing again.”

“Maple, would you say you’re a good teacher?”

She shrugged, “Depends. Wait, why are you asking?”

“I’m going to give people hope.”

“How?” Maple asked, lifting a brow in suspicion. 

“I’m going to do something stupid.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ash will make sure her voice is heard and her importance is known. I'm so excited to give Ash bigger role in this story. I feel like she as a character needs to be recognized more for her contribution to the group. I mean, Steve Gabry said it himself that she is an irreplaceable character and she plays a big role, so why would I disagree?  
> ANNOUNCEMENT: I made a tumblr account! caffeinatedmilk is not my main @ on any platform (my true identity is a secret shhh), but you can reach me on tumblr now at that! Just search up my handle. Ask me about this story, submit fanart, do whatever! I just want to interact with fans of this story more. With everything that's going on in the world right not, I just need to escape all the shit going on.


	17. An Off Day

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> While Sal continues to act unusual, the idea of contacting Ash bounces back and forth in Todd's mind. Larry, alone in his hotel room, takes a personal trip down memory lane.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The end gets steamy near the end. You have been warned. Also, the chapter title describes how I have been feeling for a while lately...

Neil and Todd stared baffled at Sal shoving cut up bites of a burger under his mask. Usually, he didn’t dare eat anything that would expose more of his face than normal, but it was as if he discovered a knife’s function that day. His friends watched as he took the small pieces of the burger and maneuvered them a way that would prevent the contents from going everywhere. They were impressed by his new confidence even if it was so out of character. Neil saw it as improvement while Todd still pondered if Sal was sick, so he constantly asked Sal if he felt different.

“I told you. I feel fine!”

“I know, but do you feel different?”

Sal shrugged. He did feel different but didn’t want to admit it to himself. He felt like he found a missing puzzle piece to a puzzle he had given up on completing, and the discovery of the piece made him think about getting the puzzle back out. Sal didn’t know what made him feel that way, and he was not too fixated on finding out. He wanted to, as Larry once said, “ride out the high” and see how far it would last.

The three sat for a while, eating their meals and sipping their drinks in silence. Todd kept looking down at his phone. He still had not decided if he wanted to text Ash yet. He hoped to encounter some sort of sign from the universe to tell him to do it, but no sign appeared. There was a pit in his stomach whenever he looked at the contact. Whatever he chose, Todd would be changing the group for the better or worse. A huge cloud of confusion weighed over him.

“Hey, Sal,” Todd rested his elbows on the table, “what do you think about all the shit that happened yesterday?”

The blue haired boy sat back to think. He hadn’t thought too much about the previous day. Well, he did have the occasional passing thought about it but didn’t want to dwell on it too much.

“Like I said in the greenroom—maybe it was fate or something trying to finally end us all.” He said deadpan with a shrug.

“I’m being serious.”

“I am too,” Sal sat upright in the booth, “Fate does a lot of weird, stupid shit, and if anyone would be on the receiving end of life’s fuckery, it’s me.”

“He’s right.”

Neil’s comment caused the two guys’ eyes to cut at him in confounded expression.

“Not about the life fuckery part! He’s right about fate being weird.”

Their faces eased.

“But fate can be altered, if you put in the effort to change it.”

Neil cut his eyes to Todd then at Todd’s phone. Although it was not his decision, Neil thought it was about time that the ginger try to mend the broken relationship between the four of them. Todd saw the gleam in Neil’s eyes when he gave him a soft nod with a smile. Opening messenger, he orchestrated a text to ignite an alliance that would change life as he knew it. Slyly flashing the screen to Neil, assuring Sal didn’t see the action, he made sure the message wasn’t too harsh or demanding.

“It’s a little simple, don’t you think?” Neil whispered.

“It’s A—,” Todd glanced at Sal before lowering his voice to below a whisper, “It’s Ash we’re talking about. What do you think? She’s looking for a thesis pap—never mind. Is this a good _start_?”

Neil teetered his head side to side in contemplation and then gave Todd a quick downward nod. With a tap of the thumb, the text sent. The two’s hearts pounded as it went through, but they made sure to hide the whole interaction from Sal who was peering out the window beside him. He seemed to have completely zoned out, lucky for them. Shifting the mood, Neil suggested sightseeing to the others, saying that their free days shouldn’t be wasted as they’re reaching the end of their tour. After a short debate on why going to the beach was a terrible idea, they settled on visiting a local music store and going from there. Scooting out of the worn booth, the three headed out of the diner, and a ding came from Todd’s pocket. The screen displayed he had an unread message from one Ash Campbell.

“You won’t regret this!” it read.

For the sake of him and his friend’s sanity, he desperately hoped she was right.

* * *

Back at the hotel, Larry laid shirtless in a disheveled bed surrounded by empty chip bags, watching television while gulping down soda. He enjoyed days without the stress of being in the eyes of the public. The constant feeding of scripts from Kenny, keeping up with his fake relationship, and simply existing exhausted him. Needing a buzz, he left his comfortable spot to retrieve his plastic bag of paradise and squatted by a coffee table. He caught a look at himself in the mirror across the room. Up his arms displayed various images of meaningful moments or items in his life. When he first started getting tattoos, he was unsure what he would get and how far he would take it. Before he turned 18, Ash gave him some stick and pokes, but over time they faded. His first tattoo was of a small picture of lasagna on his forearm. It was partially a joke, but Larry used it as a symbol to represent his mom in a way. She hated that he used lasagna to symbolize her, but she found it touching as well. A lot of his tattoos had deeper meanings, but there were some that were silly inside jokes or just random, such as his bologna sandwich tattoo and the Ghost Nabbers logo. He traced his finger over the decorated skin, admiring the artistry, but a symbol near his collarbone demanding his attention. It displayed the initials “s.f.”, and a flurry of memories flooded his mind.

When he got the tattoo, Sal was with him. Larry tried to persuade him to get one with him, but Sal’s fear of needles overcame him. Even though he didn’t get one, Larry wanted the anxious boy to choose the tattoo. Sal was apprehensive to choosing something to be permanently etched into the brunette’s skin. He stared at the tattoo artist’s book, waiting for a design to catch his eye. Unable to find one he felt was “Larry enough”, the brunette gave him a pen and something to draw on, saying whatever he drew, he’d get it tatted on him.

The blue haired boy examined the crumpled receipt for a while before making the first mark. Demanding to be surprised, Larry sat beside him, eyes closed. Once he was done, Sal slipped the drawing over to him so the brunette could give it to the tattoo artist. Because of the simplicity of the design, he was finished in a couple minutes. Looking in the mirror, Larry saw the two black letters above his heart, and Sal waited nervously for his response.

“S.F.? Like Sal Fisher? Geez, that’s so self-centered, don’t you think?” Larry joked, earning a light punch in the shoulder from his smaller counterpart.

“If you really feel that way, it can mean Sanity’s fall or some shit.”

Ah yes, the band that seemed to always find its way into their lives.

“Nah, it totally means Sal Fisher. This is my piece of you, and it always will be.”

Under the mask, Sal blushed and nudged Larry lovingly. After slipping his shirt back on and paying the artist, the two left the studio and continued the rest of their secret date night, fingers interlocked.

Larry sighed deeply before shaking his head in attempts to escape his thoughts. After achieving euphoria, he returned to his position on the bed, but a memory of earlier that afternoon distracted him. Whenever he saw a picture of Sal nowadays, his blue hair was down. The pigtails became a thing of the past. Seeing Sal with his old signature hairstyle reminded him of his time in Nockfell. Memories of his lost past gave him mixed feelings, but he decided to fixate on one memory. Pictures of the tree house flickered in his mind.

A faint smoke left their mouths when they spoke as the cold air filled the treehouse. He remembered how nervous Sal was about getting caught. Larry dismissed his worries as he pulled him closer to his body as Sal nuzzled into his red hoodie. Pulling away lightly, the brunette angled the masked face to his as he asked permission to take the prosthetic, and Sal nodded. Unbuckling the clasps, Larry placed the mask on an old side table nearby. His eyes examined Sal’s scarred face with utter admiration. He was perfect to Larry, no matter what the world said. It wasn’t long before he crashed his lips into Sal’s violently, receiving a surprised yelp.

Unsure if it was the high or the memory, Larry grew antsy. He couldn’t stop thinking about Sal’s fingers laced through his hair. He shifted uncomfortably as the memory plagued him. Larry remembered how Sal’s needy moans sounded whenever he wanted him, and he felt his breath get heavy. Why did he have to see Sal earlier? How could something as simple as pigtails turn him on? He tried forcing the image of looking up at Sal from between his thighs out of his mind, but he failed. Larry’s erection pressed against his briefs under his pajama pants. He let out a frustrated groan when he realized. It wasn’t the horniness that made him mad; it was the fact that he was a few feet away from the best sex of his life, but they both couldn’t stand each other. Giving in to the heavy sensation in both his chest and the pit of his stomach, he reached a hand under the waistband of the loose pants and palmed his member.

“Fuck you, Sal Fisher,” he moaned through gritted teeth.

Maybe his feelings for Sal weren’t _all_ bad. One thing was for sure: Larry could not properly get off without a certain blue haired boy in the forefront of his mind.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> You smell that?  
> That's the smell of repressed feelings.  
> Yep, smells like excruciating slow burn and honest work...  
> ***Expect posting to be more and more infrequent. I apologize, but my passion for writing is fleeting. I want to write more, but I will have to find my passion again.


	18. "We really messed up."

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sal walks in on Ash and Todd as they are discussing plans, and Ash learns more about how hurt Sal is.

Ash sat in Todd and Neil’s hotel room after having snuck away from her bandmates. As she rambled ideas, Todd wrote in the notebook he usually used for his online courses of ones that had potential. With each plan they thought of, they had to factor in both Sal and Larry’s head-assery. The two were a lot more similar than they wanted to admit, so they just factored it in the same except Larry’s was dialed up slightly. Ash pulled her leg up in the cushioned chair to get more comfortable, and she explained a plan she thought of while at the beach that previous day.

“It _could_ work,” Todd reluctantly admitted, “but how do you know Sal won’t just decline?”

Ash pulled at a thread on the bottom of her shirt, “Sal’s too good of a person—from what I remember. He wouldn’t abandon someone in need.”

“Oh, like how you and Larry did?”

Todd and Ash looked at Neil. Although he wanted change to happen, he still couldn’t get over how poorly she and Larry treated Sal. The fact they left in while he was obviously very vulnerable boiled his blood. It would take some time before he could trust Ash. Todd gave Neil a stern expression before continuing the conversation.

“Are you sure you want to do something that risky? I mean just imagine if Kenny or Luke found out about it. They’d have our heads! Not to mention you don’t have the time needed to pull that off and not make a fool of yourself in front of thousands.”

“Look, I know it seems stupid and crazy, but I have hope that it will work. And what is hope without a bit of stupidity?”

Todd’s brows furrowed at her question, “That…makes no sense.”

Ash pursed her lip in annoyance and let out a drawn out huff. “Moving on. I think it’s worth a shot. Plus, I think I’ll be prepared enough by tomorrow night. It’ll be fine—hopefully.”

“Okay, but, just in case, I’ll make a back-up for if it all goes to shit.”

“And that’s why I need you!” Ash gave Todd a smile of gratitude and in return received a thumbs up.

While Todd and Ash concocted schemes down the hall, Sal sat in his room, bored. He shuffled through channels, played on his phone, and, at some points at peak boredom, stared at the wall in silence. Usually he would take this time and call his dad, but after a couple failed attempts, he assumed he was busy. He missed home. Tour life was fine and all, but Sal hating being away from Nockfell for too long. When he and Todd signed with Red-Eye Records, he made sure Luke would let them work from their hometown if they wanted. Since they are a lesser known band, he complied with their request. Sal propped his legs up on the decorative headboard on the bed, thinking altering his position would affect his entertainment levels. It did not. Groaning, he sat upright and decided to head over to his bandmate’s room. He figured the two were more than likely in the same state as him, even though they keep each other fairly entertained. Clicking on his mask and slipping on some sneakers, Sal trudged down the hall and knocked on the dark brown door.

Ash, Todd, and Neil jumped at the noise. Peeking out the peep hole, Neil announced under his breath that Sal was at the door. Sharing a quick look, Todd sprung to hide the girl. Between the wall and bed, under a blanket, she held her breath, afraid of Sal finding hearing her. Neil, with a nervous yet somehow convincing grin, opened the door to the blue hair boy.

“Hey there, Salio! What’s up?”

Entering the room, Sal shrugged, “I got bored, so I thought I’d hang out with you guys…If that is okay with you.”

Neil and Todd exchange iffy expressions, and Sal got the impression he was welcome.

“I can go, if you two were doing something,” he said, inching back towards the door awkwardly.

Neil protested, to the dismay of Todd, and urged Sal to take a seat. Of course, he chose the bed that harbored the traitorous women next to it. The two anxiously watched him. Ash felt the bed move, and she began to feel her heart pound against the hard carpeted floor she laid on. When asked why they seemed so suspicious, Neil and Todd stuttered to find an answer until Sal stated his theory.

“Oh, shit, you two were fucking, weren’t you?”

Face red, Todd falsely verified the theory. Sal, once again, reminded them he could leave to not “further interrupt” them. Neil, head in hand, shook his head and told him they had “finished up” a bit before he came in.

“That explains the blanket on the floor over here,” Sal chuckled lightly, eyeing between the bed and wall.

When he went to pick up the blanket Ash hid under, Todd pulled the “what are your thoughts about Larry” card to not only distract him but to indirectly give the hidden girl a glance into Sal’s mind. The boy immediately ceased his action and put his interlocked fingers in his lap. He teetered his head side to side as he contemplated.

How did he feel about Larry now? After the encounter at the radio station, the whole fainting fiasco, and whatever happened in that greenroom, his feelings were more mixed than a finely blended smoothie, and his brain felt blended too. He wondered how Larry could be such a jerk only to come to his rescue but turn around and continue to be a jerk. Sal knew they’ve had a mind game going on for months now, but the physicality of the game had not manifested until now. Larry’s bruised would go away, but the memory of Sal punching him would not. No one would forget it. The realization of his unexpected actions made him cringe. Although not fully regretting what he did, Sal looked at his knuckles with guilt. He never thought he would ever hurt Larry, but, slowly, he admitted to himself that he had been hurting him for as long as the rivalry has continued.

“I don’t know,” Sal breathed out with uncertainly, “I think what he’s doing and has done is fucked up. I mean, we fought in a parking lot like some stupid greasers, he helped me when my body shut down, but then he came to our show just to start shit! He doesn’t give a shit about anyone other than himself—and, well, maybe Ash.”

A shiver ran down her spine as Ash heard Sal say her name with a jealous scoff. She gathered that he might be jealous of her position—well not her current one.

“But, honestly,” Sal scratched the nape of his neck, “it has been nice seeing them—in like seeing your runaway pet arrive at your doorstep only to scratch your arms up.”

Todd raised his eyebrows in surprise. He understood how Sal felt, as he related. Talking to Ash was oddly refreshing after all those years. He never noticed how he missed her calming yet charismatic nature until they started talking again, and when Ash told him that the next day would be their last in Miami, a small part of him felt a familiar hurt.

“And how does that make you feel?”

“Jesus, Todd, you sound like a therapist.”

“Well, I want to know! It sounds like you want to bury the hatchet.”

“Uh, fuck no. Just because seeing them makes me feel weird, it doesn’t mean I’m not over what they did to me—us…they still left us.”

“It’s been three years. Give it—”

“—a rest? Are you fucking kidding me?”

“This grudge you have against them is getting old, Sal. Why do you keep holding on to it?”

“Because,” Sal blurted before lowering his voice, “because it’s all I was left with. There was no note, no sign, not even a fucking text message that said goodbye, so he left me with a broken promise.”

Sal hung his head, hair draping over his artificial face. With every word he said, Ash continued to listen as the pain of guilt grew heavier and heavier on her heart. She came to realize that her plans to reconnect Larry and Sal would be a lot more difficult than she thought. The more she listened, the more she regretted ever returning to Nockfell that summer.

“I passed him in the hallway, and I felt my heart sink. I saw him in the lobby, and my stomach flipped. My brain got all foggy, too. When I saw him at the radio station, everything inside me wanted to make him hurt like he hurt me.”

The comment made Neil and Todd winced. It was unsettling hearing Sal speak like that. The blue haired boy could feel them recoil and knew they felt uncomfortable by what he said.

“Look, I know I shouldn’t have punched him in the face, but my adrenaline was rushing and couldn’t think of anything else. My point is he has completely fucked with my mind, just like he’s always wanted.”

“What if that isn’t what he wants? What if he only does that because you do the exact same to him?” Todd countered.

“I don’t fuck with his mind!”

“You wrote a whole song about him.”

Sal blushed under his mask.

“Yeah, but it didn’t fuck with his mind!”

Todd gave him a half-lidded, exasperated look. Sal gazed at the expression, only to roll his eye and flopped backwards on the bed.

“Okay, I _may_ have mind fucked him with that one…but it was only because _he_ was the one who provoked _me_.”

“Sal.”

The blue haired boy let out a deep sigh, “I came here to cure my boredom, but now I feel like a piece of shit…and I’m still bored.”

With a subtle chuckle, Neil sat on the bed beside Sal. After listening to their conversation, Neil grew compassionate, but he hoped Ash felt every single word he said. He still didn’t know if he could fully trust her, so he prayed she would keep what is said in that hotel room a secret like she promised.

“Well, Salio, if you want to, we can go out and do something! Your choice, pal!”

Sal grunted as he sat up. Neil pat his back gently to comfort him. Even though his mask hid his emotions, Neil always knew when Sal needed comforting. It was like a sixth sense for him, and Sal appreciated it.

“Can we just go for a walk or something,” Sal suggested, “This hotel is really starting to feel cramped.”

“Yeah, I guess Larry’s huge ego is taking up more space than usual.”

The diss made Sal let out a laugh before they got up. Remembering Ash’s hidden position, Todd urged them to go before him, and he told them he needed to clean up a bit.

“Oh yeah…forgot that you two—uh—you know...”

Neil’s face grew hot. With a hand on his face, he excused Sal from their room and then followed. Before closing the door, he mimicked an exhausted sigh to the ginger who retorted with a weak smile. That conversation was tiring even though they did not say much.

Once the door shut with a click, Todd helped Ash up. She stared off in bewilderment upon shedding her blanket cloak, and Todd stood waiting for a response.

“We really messed up.”

“Yeah, you did.”

“Larry and I have been dicks.”

“Yeah, you have.”

“I could use some guidance here!”

“Yeah, you could!”

Ash rolled her eyes. Todd was just pleased to hear her admit what she has been doing to them is wrong. All Todd needed was an honest confession from Ash without the crackhead around manipulating her to restore most of his trust in the girl. He made her promise once more that what was said would not leave the room and told here he would call her later that night. When he said that, Ash’s face sourly contorted.

“What’s that face for?”

“I share a room with Larry. If I talk about him and Sal, he won’t just have a cow, but he’ll have the whole damn farm!”

“Just wait until he’s asleep or something! You know when he’s out it’s like he’s dead to the world.”

Larry slept like a rock, so Ash could easily get away with sneaking to the bathroom for a late night scheming session with Todd. As she sat on the cold lid of the white toilet, she enjoyed the parts of their call that weren’t all about Larry and Sal. They talked about how Todd was still pursuing a degree, despite being on the road so often. They talked about funny interview disasters Ash had experienced within the past three years. The two even discussed their complicated love lives, Todd with Neil and Ash with Larry. Even though their relationship was fake, Ash and Larry did have a few moments, emphasis on few, where they genuinely felt like they could potentially make a tangible relationship out of the façade. For that hour or so long phone call, Todd and Ash weren’t “rival band members”, they were two teens from Nockfell where their biggest worries were the possibility of ghosts haunting the apartments and when the next art assignment was due. By the end of the call, they acted like friends again.

Ash hung the phone up with a smile and so did Todd. When he exited the bathroom, Neil, who was surprisingly still awake, asked Todd how the call went. The ginger grinned while ducking under the covers with him.

“After tomorrow, this whole Strange Neighbor/The Wretched drama will be over.”

Neil tucked a ginger curl behind Todd’s ear.

“And how’s that?”

“Let’s just say, be prepared to go to a concert tomorrow night.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Even though I have yet to complete the next chapter, I already know it's going to be crazy. Once again, updates are going to be inconsistent, but I really want to get this story out. Also, I have been finding myself drift a bit from the fandom (but usually that happens before I get back into the groove of it). Thanks for being patient.


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